Bookstore
by PanicButton
Summary: ReidFlanders open a shop  How will Reid react when his old team turn up and an agent goes missing?
1. Chapter 1

Bookstore 

_Tupelo Twang once said: A bond made for life cannot be broken._

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

It was a small old brick building with big windows on either side of a central doorway. The big windows where thus each divided into smaller windows. Three small steps take you to the door. An old oaken door with a big brass handle and push plate. Upstairs there was one window in the middle with small red curtains flapping in the breeze.

One side of the building was joined onto a workshop of kinds. The other side there was a narrow ally way going to the back of the old shop. The back of the building was walled in by a high brick wall. There was a door leading into the rear of the building, and two upstairs windows and one down. One large step take you to this brightly painted green door. A strong smell of spicy cooking could be smelt from the rear

It was a second-hand book shop. You could smell the old pages as you walked by the shop at the front. As you opened the door a small bell jingled and a smile from the other side of the shop. Today Mrs Jones was looking for something a bit special and this was the place for those special things. The whole shop had been decorated out in preparation of Halloween. Small scarecrow dolls stood amongst the books, and spooky dolls sat on the top shelves.

"How can I help you today Mrs Jones." Such a polite young man. A bit odd. Never seemed to make eye contact. Socially awkward and said some very odd things sometimes for seemingly no reason. But the long haired young man with glasses was always as polite as he could be.

"You know my sister is coming down with her children for the week. I was wondering if you had something like a big bound book of fairy stories?"

He nodded at her and flashed that lovely smile again. Lovely nervous smile. Why was he always so on edge? He sucked in his bottom lip in thought then walked from behind the counter over to the back of the shop. He was very thin. He needed his mum to feed him up a bit. But didn't he live here with his brother or something? She couldn't remember now.

He pulled a big leather bound book off the shelf. The book was huge and he laid it on the counter and opened the first page for Mrs Jones to see. The pages were yellow and ancient.

"It comes at a price Mrs Jones." But he knew she could afford it. He closed it again as she looked at the beautiful leather cover and golden writing. "The colour plates are hand tinted." And he flashed that smile again.

She sighed. "Oh how can I resist you Doctor!" and she smiled back at the odd young man with too much hair and glasses. He pulled tissue paper from under the counter and wrapped it carefully. He took the money without checking it. That was another odd thing. He never counted what he was given. He just smiled and slid the book over to her and stuffed the money in his cords pocket.

"Have a wonderful day Mrs Jones." And a strange little wave. Then he wrapped his arms tightly around himself as though he would explode if he didn't hold on to himself tight enough.

…………

Lewis was in town. He was checking out a few leads the team had on some missing people in the area.

He was an average looking man of about 35 years old. He had cropped very blond hair and bright blue eyes. The rest of the team would be there in the morning. He wandered down a cobbled road with deep gutters. It was a very old part of the town. Ancient buildings with old fashioned shop fronts to pull in the tourists. It was tourists who seemed to ending their journeys suddenly in this town though. So he walked around where they would have gone to see if he could give the streets a quick profile before the rest of them arrived.

As he walked by one of these ancient shops he caught a glimpse of something which peeked his interest. It was a book shop with odd dolls for sale in the window. It was coming up to Halloween. His son would love one of those odd scary little dolls. He stood looking in the window at them. Nothing had a price on it. This always meant it was going to be costly but worth a look. He pushed open the door and heard the tinkle of the bell.

A man was standing at the counter. Long dark hair hanging over his face.

He looked up and smiled.

"Can I help you sir?"

"I was looking at the dolls you have in the window. Are they for sale?"

He jumped down from the stall he was sitting on. "Indeed they are. Which sort are you interested in?"

"Well it is for my son, so nothing too girly. I rather liked the scarecrow dolls in the window."

"Wonderful. They are selling well." The man with the hair and the glasses walked over and picked up one of the dolls and handed it to the customer. "You will notice how they are all hand crafted, by myself, to very high standards." Another winning smile.

"What is it made of?" Lewis was turning it over in his hand….something mesmerising about it.

"Bone and teeth and leather and other tiny left over bits."

"Teeth?" He looked up again at the man with the hair. "You look familiar."

"I have one of those faces. Have you seen these?" and he moved behind Lewis.

………….

When the younger man arrived back at the shop a couple of hours later he was concerned to note it had a closed sign on the door, and all the lights where out. He went around the back and called out. He other man came though a small gate in the wall with led to the workshop buildings. He was wearing an apron over his clothes and was carrying a bucket of hot water.

"You took your time getting back. There is cleaning up to do. Hurry."

"We agreed n n n never in the ssh sh sh sh shop! What the h h h hell happened?"

"He recognised me. Clean up." Pushing the cleaning thing in his hands. "Hurry, dinner is ready."

"Who! Who – who w w w w…"

"Shut up and do what I told you to do. Why do you try to make me angry?"

……………..

It was the following day that the team became concerned about the lack of contact from Agent Lewis. Morgan tried his cell but it went straight through to voicemail. The hotel said he had gone out for a walk in the morning and hadn't returned. Now they needed to try to retrace the steps of Agent Lewis and try to work out where he had gone.

…………………..

**A/N: This is the opening chapter of the next bit in the series of stories which started with The Scarecrow. Please RandR!**


	2. Chapter 2 Control

Control

**A/N A message for 'mog': I can't reply to your reviews, so saying a thank you here. Have some popcorn and candy :c) **

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine

They sat in silence and ate their dinner. One giving the other dirty looks over the table.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

He tucked his hair behind he ears and put his fork down. "You know. It's meant to be a business. You are going to spoil it all."

"Stop moaning. I said, he recognised me. What did you want me to do? Let him report it to the cops? Well?!" shouting.

"I I I I don't know. Stop sh sh shouting."

"OK ok..sorry.." hand up to his face.

The younger one got up and moved to the other man. "It's hurting?" gently pulling his fingers away from his face. Running fingers slowly over the other mans face. "Go lay down. I will finish up here and join you soon." He picked up the nearly empty plate and took it to the sink and ran the tap.

"Spence?"

"Hmmm."

"You are happy aren't you? This is what you wanted isn't it?" Looking over at his man.

"It's perfect." A big smile.

"Then leave the dishes and come up with me for a massage?" Raising an eyebrow in question.

"You go rest. I don't like leaving a mess."

"Leave them." A cold command and a hard hand on shoulder.

He turned the tap off and placed the dirty plate on the side. His hands had started to shake, so he clenched his fists hoping Floyd wouldn't notice. He knew he couldn't help these mood swings but it didn't make it any easier to live with. He didn't move. He dare not move. He stood and looked out of the small window which over looked the walled courtyard and took deep breaths. A knot of fear travelled up from his hands to his heart making it thump too hard and beads of perspiration popped up on his forehead. He wanted to say something. Anything to get this situation back under control again, but his throat had closed and his mouth just wasn't going to do as he asked.

"Spence, where have you been all afternoon?" Hot breath in his ear and another hand moving to Reid's left hip.

He couldn't talk. He tried but just breathing was taking up all his energy. "D d d d – I I I ….w w w was………delivery." He finally managed to stammer out.

Hands pulled him so he had his back to the window and was facing the aggressor. Flanders was smiling at him. He loved to see Spencer like this. Like some stupid dog which had been kicked by its owner. Too loyal to escape and always coming back for more. Yes he enjoyed this a lot. He loved to smell the sweat of fear rising from him and see his hands tremble and clench as he attempted to control it. He even loved the way he could hardly talk when his fear got a grip of him like this. When Spence was like this he would do anything to please. Just like a junky and just like a junky he would make sure his Spence got his fix.

……………

Morning arrived over the street, and people moved around doing their thing. At some point in the night the one of the bookstore owners had had a very slight 'accident' and was now displaying a nice bruise on his chin. It was a not uncommon sight though. The neighbouring store keepers knew there was something 'wrong' with the young man. A junky most of them assumed. He never showed his arms. Always covered even in really warm weather and they noticed the trembles and the fidgeting, and the way he wouldn't make eye contact with anyone. Yes definitely something wrong with that young man. Mrs Rogers who worked with young adults with special needs had suggested to everyone she met that the young doctor had Aspergers.

………..

Morning arrived and the rest of the team booked into the same hotel Lewis was staying at. They got hold of a spare key and went to have a look around his room. It was neat and ordered as they would have expected of him. It just looked like he had stepped out for a walk, which he had, and not returned, which he hadn't.

His bags were open but his things not put away. They weren't expecting a long stay though. Lewis had been out on a consult in a neighbouring city when this call had come in and so had travelled alone the day previously. How much trouble can an experienced FBI agent get in to in one day?

There was a small stack of tourist brochures on the night stand. Prentiss picked them up and started to look through them.

"Information on the local tourist trade, and best places to shop." She stated. Hotch took them off her and had a look too.

"Maybe we should start checking these places out first. See if Lewis has been to any of these places, and see if the missing persons have been to any of them."

JJ and Morgan went off together armed with a handful of brochures, and Hotch and Prentiss took the other half.

………….

Spencer was standing with a wrapped package under his one arm, and was looking down at the hand holding his left wrist. The fingernails digging in slightly, but that was OK…He didn't mean it. He was just not feeling well today, and had a lot of orders for things he needed to get finished. He was stressed. That's OK.

"Don't talk to anyone but the buyer." And a twist of the wrist. "Don't look at anyone unless they are asking you a direct question." Eyes looking at the floor now.

"I I I wont."

"Count the goddamned money Spence. They are going to start short changing you. Count it."

A nod. "OK"

"Hour and a half. Check your watch. Hour and a half. That's all you have." And Reid was pushed without ceremony out of the shop door.

Hour and a half was not much time…but time enough to do what he needed. Head down he walked quickly down the side of the road. He heard a few hellos from people which he decided to ignore. His wrist hurt from the twisting it had been given, and he was still shaken from last nights events. He needed to take back some of the control again.

Reid went into the small tobacconist on the corner of his street, and asked for a pack of ten. That is more than enough for his needs. He hoped. He also picked up a disposable lighter, slid change over the counter being careful not to actually look at the person serving, and left in a rush. Another side road took him down to a very small enclosed garden. He opened the gate and closed is carefully behind him. This place was nearly always empty, and today he was glad to see he was the only person here. Reid sat on the small wooden bench and placed the package next to him then took out the ten and the lighter from his jacket pocket. He slipped off his jacket, and lay in over the back of the bench and sat and looked at the things in his hands.

His hands were shaking as he put the cigarette to his mouth and lit it. He didn't inhale the smoke…he just made sure the end was glowing. Slowly he removed his watch and pushed up his sleeve. There were bruises from last night and red marks from this morning. Reid took the burning end and slowly let it touch his skin. A slow hiss as it bit into the sweat and flesh. This was better. He was in control of this. This was his and he didn't have to share it. He sat for exactly ten minutes and sixteen seconds, then collected his things together and left the park. The remains of the ten pack and the lighter stayed on the bench.

……………..

He had to be quick now. He really couldn't afford to be late back. Not when he was in this mood. He had hoped that it would have abated by this morning but the mood swings seemed to be getting worse and more exaggerated. He knew Floyd was self medicating. He just didn't know what with and they called _him_ the junky? That man had more drugs floating around in his system than blood. He knew he was taking whatever it was which had caused the nose bleeds last time. He will keep an eye on him better. And what he did yesterday, well that was beyond the pale! How could he have done that in the shop! How could he have done that period? He will talk to him when he gets back. He will talk to him about that incident. It needs to stop. Though he knew deep down he would never say anything. He had tired. When Floyd was angry there was not a whole lot he could say or do to stop him

He put a hand up to his neck in remembrance of the times he had not followed rules. He rounded the corner at a jog and smacked into someone coming the other way. His package fell to the floor, and in his accustomed manner he didn't lift his eyes to look at the person. He just mumbled "Sorry." And bent down to pick up the package which had landed next to a pair of black shoes. He stared at them. He knew those shoes. He knew that smell. Slowly his hands moved to the package and he picked it up. Eyes watching him. He could feel them burning though the top of his head. He wanted to curl up into a ball. He wanted to jump up and hug this person. He needed to become invisible. He was going to be sick. Fear rooted him to the spot.

"Are you alright?"

No, he spoke…now there was no mistake. Don't talk to me. Go away. This isn't happening. A hand touched his shoulder. It felt like fire and ice. No don't touch me. He will smell you on me. He will kill me. Go away. He still couldn't move. He needed him to go away. Stop looking at him. If he stood up Aaron would know it was him. If he stayed crouched on the floor in the street? Everything was happening in slow motion. The bile was rising in his throat.

"I I I 'm fine." He said quietly and vomited on Hotch's shoes.

……………………..


	3. Chapter3 Search

Search

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Hotch was about to walk around the corner when someone flew from around it and smacked into him. He guy dropped something like a parcel wrapped in paper. He bent down to pick it up mumbling a sorry.

The man crouched and stayed there.

Emily was looking in a shop window. He looked down at the top of the persons head and watched his hand move slowly and grab the package he had dropped. A familiar head. Painfully familiar. The hair falling over the man's face. The way it kicked up in waves at the back. The colour. The texture. Aaron knew that head very well. Too well.

"Are you alright?"

And the person stayed crouching in the street but tension shot through him. He was shaking. Aaron reached down and put a hand on his shoulder, and was rewarded with a stiffening of this young man. Familiar shoulder. Angled and a bit too thin. He was rocking slightly, but still didn't look up.

"I I I 'm fine."

Familiar voice. He was about to reach down and pull him up off the street when Reid Threw up on his shoes.

Emily spun around at the sound, and Reid just stayed crouched in the street not knowing what to do. Rules hadn't been set for this. What should he do? He needs to think. This was Hotch. Hotch knew it was him. Prentiss was here. Oh god what can he do?

"S s s sorry." He muttered and got up and ran.

He ran until he thought he was going to die. He finally made his way back to the small park. How long had he been running for? He had no idea. Had they followed him? He had no idea of that either. What the hell were they doing here? He should be safe here in the middle of no where hidden away in a bookstore.

The remains of the pack and the lighter were still on the bench. He ripped off his coat and let the package fall to the ground and pulled his sleeve up and looked at the myriad of scars and marks over it. Burns and bite marks, needle marks, and old cutting scars. It was vile. It was him…he was a freak. With shaking hands he lit up and started his ritual of burning in a tidy little line. He pulled his knees up so his feet were resting on the bench in front of him and hugged his legs.

It rained, and Reid got wet but he stayed where he was and rocked and muttered and talked to the voices screaming in the back of his head.

You can't go home now.

He will kill you.

Hotch will track you down.

They will find Floyd.

You should have been watching where you were going.

You stupid freak.

Now look what you have done.

The book will be ruined

He will demand payment off you.

………………

Emily stood and watched the odd scene unfold in front of her. Someone had thrown up over Hotch and was turning and running away. She frowed. He looked familiar. He looked like someone they both knew.

"Hotch." She said, but Hotch was side stepping the mess and pulling tissue out of his pocket to get the worst of it off.

"Hotch. What the hell was that all about? Was that Reid?"

"Not sure, I didn't get to see his face."

The two of them stared down the road in the direction he had ran.

"We have to follow him Hotch. If that was Reid." She started walking towards where he had gone.

"Prentiss, focus on the job. That can wait." But Hotch didn't look happy. He was well aware of who that was and what this meant. If Reid was here, so was Flanders.

……………

It was getting dark when Reid eventually left the park. His arms hurt. He had broken his own rules today and gone over onto his right arm too. His jaw hurt from grinding his teeth, and his head hurt. He needed to go back and see Floyd. He walked slowly with the wet package under his arm. His hair hung in wet lumps around his face. He kept his face looking at the cobbles and didn't even bother trying the front of the shop. He knew it would be closed. He walked down the ally and into his back yard. He kitchen door was open. Cautiously he walked in and put the pack on the table.

"You will have a really good excuse for this."

Reid closed his eyes waiting for what was coming next.

"I I I'm s s s sorry."

Floyd frowned at looked at Reid. "Where have you been?" Walking closer as Spencer backed off, "What are you afraid I will find out?" Grabbing Reid by the arms. He yelped in pain and tried to pull back. "What have you done?" cold angry eyes and a sharp intake of breath. "Show me your arms."

"I I I s s s I saw – They" trying to escape hands pulling at his jacket.

"Who did you see? Take your jacket off. Stop fighting me."

"Hotch." The word was out of his mouth before he thought and now his throat constricted with fear and he was unable to say what he meant. Flanders finally pulled off Reid's jacket then just put his hands on his shirt and ripped it off him. His watch pinged off and flew across the kitchen and Reid let out an alarmed yelp. He quickly tried to wrap his arms around his bruised torso but Flanders grabbed his left wrist and pulled his arm towards him, twisting it to see the inner arm.

"You saw Hotch, then went off and did this to yourself? Have I not told you to stop this shit?" Reid nodded. "Did he see you? Did you - did you…….?"

Reid just stared at him. Why was he not surprised they were here?

"W w w what h h h have you – what h h have y y you DONE?" Trying to pull his arm away. "Get those th th things out of the w w w window!" Still trying to get away.

"How the hell was I to know he was an FBI agent?" letting go and turning away and pulling something out of a drawer.

"Who? What?" Reid took the wallet from Floyd with shaking hands.

"Really though sweet. I am glad…in a way…yes I am glad….it worked out well. A nice tidy bit of revenge."

It was a horribly familiar feel under his fingers. He flipped it open….FBI - BAU SSA John Lewis.

"No!... No you didn't?! Gee Floyd that must be the most intelligent thing you have done this year!" and he threw the badge back at Flanders. "Get those things out of the shop! They will see them, they will know! If they find me…OK they find me…but not you." Floyd was grinning at Spencer.

"You are so sexy when you panic."

"What?!"

"Come here."

"No! We need to get rid of that stuff."

"Later. Spence?"

"What?!" walking away and towards the door leading to the back of the shop and picking up boxes to pack the dolls away into.

"You're talking in full sentences."

"Shut up." And a grin

…………………….

The leads had led to nothing, and Hotch realised that Emily was going to bring up the subject of Reid again. He really didn't know how he was going to deal with this. Maybe it hadn't been him. After all he hadn't seen his face. He had only said a couple of really quiet words. It could have been anyone really. Only deep down he knew it wasn't.

The CSU were involved in the disappearances so it was not too much for Hotch to drive over there with a bundle of tissues and make a request. Anything they could get from it would be wonderful. What the person had been eating, any DNA which could be pulled. ASAP would be very good. Thank you. He left his cell number. Aaron went back to his hotel and waited.

…………..

Reid rushed around the shop stuffing things into boxes while Floyd stood and watched leaning on the wall with his arms crossed and smiling. "You going to help?"

"No. I am enjoying watching you."

………………..


	4. Chapter 4 Brothers

Brothers

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

The sun had just begun to rise again and the light shot a bolt of brightness in the dark of the small room. Reid lay on his back looking at the crack in the ceiling.

This was a mess. He needed to be able to focus and work out what to do. He looked down at Floyd's head resting on his chest and his arm laying across his stomach and ran his fingers through his hair, twisting it gently around his fingers. Floyd rarely actually fell asleep but now he was heavy with sleep and breathing deeply. Spencer needed to get up and pace the room for a while and think, but the deep contentment he was feeling over-rode everything and he smiled and wound Floyd's hair around his fingers for a while. He lifted his left arm and looked at what he had done the day before. There were big red blisters forming over his white skin. He smiled at them and resumed his loving of Floyd's hair.

………….

Aaron got his phone call mid morning. Things had been looked at, and then looked at again, and then because the results seemed to be incorrect they got someone else to test it. Then just to make sure they double checked it again. This was definitely stomach contents? Almost pleading and needing the answer to be 'no'.

"You are absolutely sure of this?" It was a 'yes' Aaron closed his phone and ran his hand through his hair. Morgan was standing looking at him, with Prentiss watching from a bit further away. He hadn't told Morgan about yesterday yet. There seemed little point if there was no reason. Now though there seemed to be reason.

………..

Floyd started to stir and rolled over to join Spencer in the ceiling watch.

"Good you are awake. We need to open shop.

"Good morning to you too."

"Seriously Floyd, I have been thinking. We need to keep things looking normal, and you need to keep out of the way."

"Uh hu."

"No…I am serious. You need to get rid of that – that stuff, and I then get out of the way. Go right away, while I sort this out."

"Yep."

"You are not listening to me." Sitting up and pulling the bedding over him. "You ruined one of my favourite shirts."

"You ruined one of my favourite arms. So we are square. Don't do it again. Talk to me, you know I am here for you. Just don't do that to yourself."

Reid made his way to the shower while Flanders got fresh clothing out for the day.

…………

The team divided up into two pairs. Morgan and JJ and Prentiss and Hotch again. He felt he needed to keep Prentiss with him….in case…just in case.

They were to canvas the area looking for last known whereabouts of the missing tourists. They all seem to have ended up in one area of the city. The old quarter. Ancient buildings with narrow cobbled streets. Only bikes permitted. Very quiet, very expensive shops. Hotch was also on the lookout for whoever it was who made a mess on his shoes.

They showed photographs and asked questions. Anything unusual. Anyone acting strangely. Any new people in the area who seemed to keep apart from the locals. Unwilling to socialise or fit in. Anything or anyone who didn't seem to want interaction with their neighbours. Keeping distance.

And flashing the photos and coming up with nothing.

Hotch entered a florists whilst Emily went over the road to a shop that sold everything you could ever think of in wax.

After the normal line of questions the woman in the shop said "Well there are those two brothers."

"Oh?" making notes.

"Yes they are very strange. They have the book shop 'Prince Reed's' down the road a way."

Hotch stopped writing and looked up at the woman. "Brothers? Are you sure?"

"Well very odd situation going on there. Either brothers or married. They have the same last name. Very strange. The younger one has something wrong with him."

"What do you mean?"

"Well he never makes eye contact. I think he is a junky. All twitchy and nervous. Just comes across as odd you know?"

"Can you describe them to me? What do they look like – these brothers."

"If they are brothers, please don't quote me on that. I have never seen them with a girl. Well the older one is thirtyish I suppose. Straggly dark hair, and the younger one, always looks ill, tall long hair both have glasses."

"Do you know their names?"

"We just call them The Franks Brothers. Sorry don't know their first names."

Hotch left the shop with a thank you and met up with Prentiss again. They walked for a while showing the missing persons pictures to people until Hotch could see the sign in front of the bookstore.

He glanced around and saw a shop selling little bits of carved things. "Prentiss check that place out. I will check out the bookstore."

With a nod she crossed over and went into the shop opposite.

The bell jingled as he pushed open the door and stood inside. The door shut with a quiet click behind him. He stood looking at the bent over very familiar head concentrating on writing something in a book.

"Reid."

His head shot up. His eyes met Hotch's and he turned and started to move for the door. Aaron's gun was up and pointing at Reid. "Stop Reid."

Spencer heard the click of the gun safety being removed. "Please Spencer. Stop." He could hear the pain in his voice.

Reid stopped and turned slowly around to face Hotch again. He was shaking. He stood and looked at his ex-boss, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Franks?"

"P p p pardon?" shit he was going to look like an idiot.

"You are using a different name." Looking concerned

"Hotch, I am n n nnot a ch ch ch child." Trembling hands twisting. Frustration on his face.

"Is Flanders here?" Gun lowering.

"Erm – uh, A a a aaron, please." Eyes everwhere but on Aaron. "He he he w w will know."

"Where is Agent Lewis?" gun holstered.

"I I I who?" he could feel that greyness creeping around his eyes again. He was going to pass out.

"Agent Lewis. Where is he?" Walking towards a swaying Spencer.

"St st st stay away Aaron." Feeling for something to hold onto and finding Aarons hands. Strong kind hands. Hands that didn't punch and hurt. Comforting hands. Reid grasped Hotch's hands in his. "St st stay away from m m m me. I I I I'm filth."

The words stung Hotch into moving closer, hands moving from hands to shoulders and then pulling him close feeling the sobs rising from him in huge gulps. Hotch could smell the stale scent of fear on Reid's skin.

"You need to come with me Spencer." A quiet voice in Reid's ear.

"I I I c c cant. I am h h h happy here."

"Reid, he is abusing you. He is a murderer and god only knows what else. You can't want to stay here."

"NO! no no Hotch, no…I am st st staying." But he wasn't quite ready yet to let go.

"Come with me now. While you can. Reid. Now." Hands starting to manoeuvre him to the door, he turned so his back was facing the back of the shop. Reid's eyes went big as he saw movement.

"He said he was staying you son of a bitch." A cold voice from behind Aaron.

The cooking pan caught Hotch across the back of the head and floored him in one hit.

"NO! Floyd… what the h h hhell are you p p p playing at!"

"Shut up and lock the door. Pull down the blinds. Quickly. I saw you, you little whore. I saw that look in your eyes!"

"I I I I c c c……"

"Told you to shut up freak. Lock the door. Then come with me to the workshop."

Reid ran to lock the door and pull down the blinds as Prentiss exited the shop across the road and Floyd dragged Hotch out of the back door and across the yard, through the door in the wall and into his workshop.


	5. Chapter 5 Workshop

Workshop

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Prentiss stood in the street and look across the road to the bookstore Hotch said he was going in. 'Prince Reed's Antique Books' There seemed to be no lights on though, so she wandered over to try the door. Locked. Blinds down. Dark. Strange. She was sure he said he was going in here. She tried the door again and peeped through a gap where the blinds didn't quite reach the edge of the window. Nothing. Total darkness. She stood back and looked up at the small window in the middle of the next floor up. Window closed, and no lights there either.

Emily took out her phone and speed dialled Hotch.

It rang then went to answer-phone.

She snapped it shut, and speed dialled Morgan.

"We have a big problem. I have lost Hotch. Get down here now." She gave him an address and then stood waiting in the street.

………

Spencer stood wide eyed in the corner of Flanders huge macabre workshop. There were dolls hanging off the walls. Life sized and creepy. Some made of flesh carefully cured and some made of wood and sticks and 'bits' They were beautiful in their own vile way, but right now his interest was in just what Flanders had planned for Hotch.

He had tried to say something a few times, but the panic had frozen his voice to a few whimperings, which he got a slap for, so now he was keeping quiet, but there was no way on earth or in this hell that he would permit Flanders to hurt Aaron.

Hotch had been stripped of his guns and phone and badge and all other little bits he might carry. His jacket was over the back of a wooden chair. He was laying on the floor, his hands bound behind his back and gag firmly in place over his mouth. His shoes where removed and feet tied together. Floyd was standing looking down at him.

"Spence, get me that syringe." Hand out reached to receive.

"NO!" burst from Reid's mouth but he was still rooted to the spot.

"I won't hurt him if you do what I ask. I just need some samples. Syringe and scissors. Now."

Shake of the head. "They will – will th th th they w w w………….."

"Shut that stupid mouth and get the things. Yes they will come, yes I know that. So we need to get him out of the way NOW!"

"N n n n no!" Walking forward. "N n n not Aaron. I I I w w w wont let y y you!" Pushing Flanders back away from Hotch.

Cold eyes looking at the hand which defied him. Flanders grabbed the wrist and twisted. "Get the SUV ready or he will join Lewis and you will help."

Reid sprang to a run and ran out of a side door into a garage joining onto the back of the small complex of shops. The lane behind had a delivery allowance and so a small amount of traffic used the road. He jumped in the SUV and kicked the engine to life and reversed it up close to the rear workshop doors.

Flanders was there with Hotch dragging on the floor behind him. "Don't hurt him Floyd. Please. What are you going to do?"

A hair ruffling. "It won't hurt."

"No no no Floyd…"

"Clear the stuff away. I won't hurt him. Promise. OK?" Stuffing Aaron into the back of the car.

"I'm coming too."

"You…..you are the cause of this. This is your fault. You will stay and clear up. You will get rid of the others when they arrive. You will keep them out of here. Understood?" A nod. "Get his jacket - run…they will be here."

Spencer could hear hammering on the door of the shop as the car pulled out and he locked the door behind it. Hotch will be ok Floyd promised he would be ok. As long as he didn't get a headache all was going to be fine. Wasn't it? If Floyd wanted Aaron dead he would be already wouldn't he?

He ran out of the workshop shutting the door to the courtyard and locking it tight. He had to go answer the door. He had to face whoever it was there. Voices screaming at him from the back of his mind.

You idiot.

What have you done?

You are a freak.

They will kill you for this.

You won't get away with this.

He stood in the middle of the shop trying to hear the door above the voices. It's OK Floyd said it was going to be OK. It will be alright, nothing to worry about. Floyd always sorts it. He won't do anything to Hotch; he knows it will upset him if Aaron gets hurt. He won't want to do that. Everything will be cool. Just open the door. His hand was over the lock as the voices from outside finally broke through the screaming in his head and he could hear.

"OPEN THIS DOOR BEFORE I KICK IT IN!"

He felt the lock click and pulled on the handle and stood back for what he knew would happen.

Morgan stood gun raised staring at Reid. Reid stood looking at his shoes, hands balled into his fists to stop the trembling. He took a step back to let them in the shop. Morgan, Prentiss and JJ slowly entered the dark shop and look around. Firstly at the man standing there then at the books on the shelves. The guy reminded JJ of Reid. He hadn't looked up yet, but that was a terribly familiar looking figure standing there.

"Reid?" Prentiss broke the icy silence.

…………..

It took Morgan's brain a few seconds to comprehend what he was looking at. Reid. That was Reid. His gun slowly lowered. Prentiss pushed by him and walked to Reid and grabbed him by the shoulders.

Spencer felt the hands on him and jumped back in surprise.

"D d d don't t t t touch me!" Still not looking up, but now it was unmistakable. It was Reid.

"Spence?" JJ's voice.

"Reid man, what the hell?" Morgan was looking around the shop. Old tomes on the shelves, all neatly ordered in a very Reid like manner, but it was awesome.

"Reid." Prentiss again. "Where is Hotch?" Getting too close to him again. In his personal space.

"Back off Emily. Derek." And Spencer turned and started to walk out of the rear door.

"Don't move Reid. Emily check out that back room. Reid sit. Sit on the floor. Hands laced behind your head."

Prentiss walked through a small hallway where stairs went up and a small door obviously to the cellar or something. She walked into the kitchen. Someone used this kitchen a lot. Big pans hanging on the walls and plates stacked. Very tidy, but used. Two chairs at the table.

"Clear." she called out. No sign that Hotch had been there. She looked out of the kitchen window out to the small courtyard. Nothing…not even a plant pot or bird feeder.

She walked back to the shop. "Cellar and stairs going to next floor."

"George Orwell – 1984" Reid suddenly said. "First edition – first impression. Two versions issued in different coloured dust-jackets – green and red. Copies in good condition are deeply uncommon. One with a small nick in the corner sold for $8,258.40 recently….."

They all turned to look at Reid who carried on.

"First Edition Gunslinger- The Dark Tower, one of 500 numbered copies - signed by King – sold for £7,500"

"Reid, quiet. Where is Hotch?" Reid was sitting on the floor mumbling to himself. He needed to say all he needed to say even if they didn't want to listen he still needed to say it.

"REID!" Morgan shouting at him. Getting no proper response. "Prentiss, JJ stay here, I am checking the rest of this place out."

"Morgan. No…" Reid suddenly found his voice. He didn't want Morgan poking around. He really didn't. "I will show you around. Let me come with you."

Slowly Spencer stood. Still not looking at JJ. He couldn't look at JJ. It would blind him. He would die if he looked at JJ. Carefully he walked over to Morgan. "What do you want to see?" heart pounding. Sweating. Shaking. No Floyd to make it better. Nothing to help he get control again. He bit on his bottom lip until he could taste the coppery blood ooze and drift over his tongue.

He led them slowly up the red carpet on the stairs, hands holding onto the twisting hand rail like a vice. Pointing to a white door. "Bathroom." He said.

Emily and JJ walked into the huge room. It was just so out of place in this strange world of old musty books. Massive double shower and tub. Everything in white. Two of everything. JJ frowned. He was living with someone? She frowned again. It just didn't seem to fit in right. Something was wrong. No girly stuff. Her eyes shot around the room searching for the bottle of perfume or the hair dye kit. With trembling hands she opened the cupboard on the wall. Shaving kits etc. Still no girly stuff. She turned to look at Emily who had been taking in the same information. They made some kind of acknowledgement between the two of them. One which didn't surprise Emily, but one which seemed to unexpectedly hurt JJ deep down.

They left the room. Reid still hadn't looked at them. He still kept his eyes down. He was going to be in so much trouble for this. He was going to have such a bad night, but it was unavoidable. He took a deep breath and pointed at the other door. Painted dull black with odd patterns drawn into it. "Bedroom." And he stood back for Morgan to pass and enter.

It was a smallish room with a big bed central in the back wall opposite the window. It smelt closed and musty. It was a room definitely set up for a man. But not necessarily this man. There were two people sharing this place. Reid came in and sat on the bed.

"Satisfied? No Hotch hiding in my wardrobe."

Morgan flipped his phone open.

"Hello my sweet thing." Her voice echoed over the small room.

"Pen hun, some information please. A shop" he gave the address "Prince Reed's Antique Books," and he was opening drawers and looking inside. "Can you give me the names of the owners please?"

Clattering of the keys. "OH! Strange. It says here Dr Spencer and Floyd Franks. Derek? What's going on?"

"Tell you later sweetness. Thank you." Derek turned back to Reid. "Where is Hotch? Where is Flanders?"

In truth he had no idea. "I I I don't know. I don't know. Why would I know?"

"Franks – you changed your name to Franks?"

"So what? People change their lives and change their names to go with it."

"We need to look in the cellar Reid – Franks – whatever it is you call yourself."

"It's officially changed to Franks. By law."

JJ spoke "Why Spence?" She was talking to him, it would destroy him…she needed to shut up. She needed to shut up now.

"Why the hell do you think? You can't go in the cellar." He stood up to leave the room….Avoiding JJ was becoming difficult. She was standing in his way. She was trying to stop him.

She is going to get you in trouble.

She is going to touch you.

He really won't like it if JJ touches you.

He will smell her body on you.

He will know.

You are already in trouble.

Don't look at her.

She will kill you.

You must not look or listen to her.

Voices screaming so loud he couldn't hear anything else. Even the pounding of his heart had faded away. Floyd had his meds. Where were they? He needed Floyd! The voices had to stop. He ran from the room shouldering JJ to one side and ran for the bathroom. The others on hot pursuit as he slammed the door and locked it.

The razor.

Get the razor.

"I don't want to"

Take the control back.

"Not like that."

You have done it before.

"He doesn't like it."

But he's not here. He has abandoned you again. No one to help you now. They will come in here. They are breaking the door down. They will take you away.

They will look in the cellar!

Your meds are in the small cupboard. Just take some. Quickly. Take them.

Reid opened a small medicine cupboard and took out a packet of bubble wrapped pills. Each one marked with a day. Yesterdays bubble was empty. Today was still full. The door was giving way. He popped the blue pill out of the bubble and swallowed it.

That won't be enough.

As fast as he could he popped them all out then took the next strip. As the door finally cracked open Reid stuffed them in his mouth.

Empty strips laying at his side.

Now they would shut up.

Now the voices will stop nagging him

Now he could think.

At last as the convulsions hit the voices stopped. Everything stopped.

……………..

Flanders stood and looked at his captive. This was going to be fun. Yes he promised Spence he wouldn't hurt him. But he could still scare the shit out of him, and make him do all sorts of wondrous things! Yes this was a good day for Floyd Flanders. All thoughts of what might be happening to Spence back home gone from his mind.

…………...


	6. Chapter 6 Chat

Chat

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine

Hotch was sitting looking at Flanders. They were reading each other. They were profiling each other. Though Flanders knew quite a bit about Aaron already. There were however many questions he still needed to ask. What was this creepy hold he had over Spence? What had this man done or promised to do with or for Spence? This man married with a child. What was his interest in Reid? He had put restraints around Aaron's ankles but not his wrists. He wanted to play with this man…this man who kept trying to lure his boy away.

He rolled a flask across the floor to Hotch. "Water. Have a drink." Hotch just looked at it

"It's nice to get you alone for a while. There is so much we need to talk about, don't you think?"

Aaron remained silent.

"This is going to be absolutely no fun for me if you won't talk. I did promise Spence that I wouldn't hurt you, but you know…promises they get broken."

Nothing.

Flanders crouched on the floor in front of Hotch but well out of reach. "What is it you have against Spence and me? Why won't you just leave us be? He is with me willingly. I am not forcing him to stay." Running his fingers through his hair. "Well not anymore. He's sick." Tapping his head. "Up here. In there, voices all the time. Did you know?"

Aaron was listening and watching.

"He is delusional. His mind has slipped. I care for him. Why are you trying to stop that? If he is happy, why does it make you so mad?"

"You don't feel responsible for this 'slip' in his mind?" A cold angry voice.

"You – know – nothing – Agent Aaron – Hotchner. You know nothing."

"Indeed it would seem I don't. Tell me. Explain this situation to me. Why is Reid a wreck? Tell me how that happened."

Flanders removed his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. "I told you why. His mind has gone. He is not functioning very well alone right now. But you know that. I am caring for him, for as long as I can. But you know he does stuff. It worries me."

"He was functioning fine before you got your hands on him."

"Oh please Aaron – stop lying to yourself! You know full well that is not the truth. People like Spence never function properly. You used him as a walking encyclopaedia! You didn't care for what he needed. You ignored his oddities; you never tried to help him. He amused you! You didn't even notice when the voices came back. You ignored it. So don't you come the all caring best buddy or whatever the hell it is you are!"

"You took a slightly odd genius and turned him into a twitching nervous wreck. That is helping him?"

"I am keeping him safe. I am teaching again. I am giving him rules. We all need rules. He needs rules."

"Rules?" Sitting listening to Flanders. This man was obviously totally insane.

"Rules. Count the money when people pay for a book. Rules. Stop burning yourself. Rules. Be back within hour and half – or he forgets to come home. Rules. They are there so he can live and not be hurt. Rules. Don't touch Aaron or I will hurt you. Rules. Look at someone I have NOT given you permission to look at and you will feel pain. Rules. All set for a reason."

"I see."

"You see? What do you see? Tell me what do you see Aaron? Lighting up and taking a hip flask out of his coat pocket.

……………….

Everything is white.

There is nothing else.

No pain.

No nagging arguing annoying voices.

No rules.

Nothing.

Breathe in breathe out.

Sleep.

………………

"Why does he keep coming back to you Aaron? What hold do you have over him?" Sitting crossed legged now.

No answer. Getting bored. Maybe just hurt him a little bit. Spence wouldn't have to know…….Spence……Spence. Had he got rid of those goons yet? He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled the shop number. It went straight to answer-phone. He tried the house number. Same…straight to answer-phone. He didn't let have Spence have a cell phone. Flanders got up and picked up Hotch's phone and he ran his fingers over it for a while.

"Which number is Agent Derek Morgan?"

Icy stare

"I need to know Spence is OK. You don't want to know?"

Nothing.

"Fine." He flipped the phone open and speed dialled one.

He pressed speaker so Hotch would be able to hear. The call was answered.

"Hotch!"

"Agent Derek Morgan."

"Where the hell is Agent Hotchner?" Shouting.

"I would like to talk to someone in control of themselves. Maybe JJ? Yes, pass me over to that sweet JJ."

"You talk to me you son of a bitch!"

"I talk to JJ or no one. Call me back."

He cut off the call. Can't have them getting a trace. Can't have them thinking they are in control.

…………..

JJ pulled out her phone and hit speed dial for Hotch, and put the phone on speaker. Garcia was being contacted to trace the call.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Her sweet voice. How he hated that voice. How he hated the way people looked at her and Spence. She was just a slut and not worthy of his pure soul.

"I am just checking up really sweet. How is Spence?"

A noise like a deep swallow or sigh.

"I really don't feel like I want to talk about Reid. Let me talk to Hotchner."

"Not why I am calling. What's happened? Something has happened."

"Well Flanders, you will have to come back and find out for yourself wont you?" Sugary sweet. Making him want to be sick.

Flanders cut the connection and walked over to Hotch.

"I am really pissed off now. Get up." Hotch didn't move. "I said get up, we are going back. I need to check on Spence. Get up or stay. I don't really care right now." Was that genuine concern Hotch was seeing in Flanders face?

…………..

Too hot.

Much to hot.

Turn the heating down.

Get these covers off me.

Oh god there are things.

Get them away from me.

Why can't I move?

Why can't I breathe?

Breathe in breathe out.

Help me someone.

My arms are too heavy.

The light is too bright.

Why does it suddenly hurt so much?

Someone is touching me

Don't touch me.

Don't touch me.

Don't – leave me alone.

Floyd where are you?

……………

Hotch lay in darkness. The boot had connected with his face, and another to his ribs. Now it was dark and Flanders was gone. He tried to sit up and assess the damage. Felt like more than one boot had made contact with his face and more than one to his ribs. It was deathly quiet. Hands tied behind his back, and gag around his mouth.

………….

_I'm coming._

Quickly.

_Get out of there. They will keep you._

I can't move.

_Why not? What happened?_

I don't know. I can't move.

_Stay then. I will come to you._

No…They will be waiting for you.

_I have Hotch and I have a plan._

…………….

Haley sat at home. She had her sister over for the week. Aaron was away again. Always away. She really thought that now Reid was gone she would get her husband back but he seemed even more distant and depressed. Her cell phone bleeped and she sighed and picked it up. Her sister had taken Jack to the park….she just wanted to sit and relax, but no – someone demanded her attention.

She flipped her phone open. It was Aaron.

"Aaron!" she said happily.

"No…not Aaron. You need to contact Derek Morgan. Give him two minutes, then call him please."

And the line went dead.

……………

Morgan's phone bleeped. It said Hotch's name but he guessed it wouldn't be him.

"Yes?"

"I am going to send you some pictures. You are going to look at them. You are going to wait for a call from Haley. She will be receiving the same pictures if you do not deliver Spencer to me. Understand. I am very serious about this Agent Morgan. You will not take him from me. If you try I will send those pictures to Haley. Entirely up to you."

The phone made a bleep for Morgan to receive files.

"JJ over here." and he passed the phone over for her to see the pictures.

"Oh my god Derek. Her hand flew to her face." As the phone bleeped again.

"Derek? It's Haley, what's going on?"

"Don't worry. Turn off your phone. Refuse files. It's under control."

"Where is Aaron?"

"He cant come to the phone right now Mrs Hotchner. Please turn off your phone and refuse files. I will suggest you don't open your email either. I will call you back."

He ran to Reid's room.

……………

Let go of me.

Hands all over me.

Dragging, and pulling.

Why does this hurt so much?

What are they doing to me?

Why is it so hot?

What is that crawling over me?

Get off me.

Get off me.

…………….

Reid kicked and screamed and hit out as they dragged him from his bed and sat him in a chair.

"Morgan you cannot seriously be thinking of handing him over to that monster!"

"Prentiss suggestions on the back of a postcard please." And he started to push the chair down the corridor. "Show her the pictures JJ."

She gasped, "But you are giving him what he wants. Hotch will understand."

He took Reid out to the car park and stopped and waited.

The SUV rounded the corner of the car park and slowed down. The three agents stood with Reid who was now slumped and still in the chair. Flanders pulled the vehicle up so the passenger door was next to Reid and he swung to door open.

"You Prentiss, help him in."

She moved to Reid un-strapped him and pulled him to his feet. He was standing but he obviously had no idea what was going on or where he was. Prentiss guided him to the car and helped him in.

"Strap him in."

She slowly pulled the strap around him and buckled him in. Flanders lent across and slapped a bit of paper in her hand. "The address. Now move out of my way."

As Prentiss backed off Flanders raised his hand. He was borrowing Hotch's gun. He pointed and fired. There was a yelp and a funny gurgling cry from over Emily's shoulder….she spun around as the SUV drove off.

…………

"It's OK Spence. I have you know."

Spencer could hear a voice. One he needed. From down a deep deep tunnel.

"Floyd?"


	7. Chapter 7 Needs

Needs

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Once again running away. Once again a damaged Spencer, only this time not his fault. If they didn't keep sticking noses in then he would have been there for Spence and sorted him out. They get in the way. Thinking they know best. Always making a fuss over nothing. Now this. Now he will need to take Spence somewhere and get him better again, and all because……all because……they cant leave him alone.

Time to find somewhere to crash for a while. A motel? A cabin. Not a cabin. Bad things happed in cabins. He drove and thought for a while. Had to get off the road. Had to keep Spence safe. He headed for the mountains. But he would have to get over the state lines and he would have to change vehicles which was a shame, as he liked this.

For now he found a dirt track and pulled off into the rough countryside where he could park up and try to see what the hell was wrong with Spencer.

He parked up and jumped down from the car and moved to the passenger door. Spencer was slumped over the strap. Shit….seen this before with him. Got to get him laying down. He reclined the seat right back so Spencer was laying down, and he gently moved his hair off his face.

"What the hell did you do?" He closed the door and went back to the driver's side and reclined his side to match, and then lay with his arms around his Spence. "Just let me know if you need me."

……………..

JJ lay in the car park looking at the sky. Something was wrong. She should be standing up, but she didn't seem to have the strength to move. Morgan's face. Hello Morgan, what are you doing here in my dream? She smiled – she tried to smile – one of those dreams where you couldn't quite do what you wanted to do. She tried to move her hand – damnit – she couldn't move it. Well hello! I bet your skin feels nice. I have always wanted to touch your skin. Soft and smooth. Shame I can't move! Oh I can blow bubbles!

……………

Hours went by and Floyd stayed where he was comforting and keeping his companion safe. He didn't sleep. He didn't sleep very often, but now he needed to get a fix of a smoke and maybe something else. He didn't want to smoke over Spence. He had a feeling this was a Geodon overdose he was seeing here. The smoke wasn't going to help him any. Slowly he withdrew his arms and opened the car door. He lit up and took a drink, then pulled some stuff from his pocket which he chewed on. He sat side on in the car so the smoke went out and not over his love. Then pulled Aarons phone out of his pocket. Spence wouldn't be happy with these pictures, but he deserved it! He only got what he had been giving. What goes around comes around. He looked through the images he had sent Morgan, and the ones he hadn't. Haley really should see these. Hmm..enter send……"Oh did I just send that…..didn't mean to" His fingers hovered over the buttons. "Oh look I could email them. Oh dear. Sorry Haley. I think I just sent those to your sister." He put the phone on the ground and smashed it with his boot.

He swung back around and lay down again and watched Spencer.

………………..

He could feel.

He could feel comforting arms.

Through this bright whiteness he could sense something good at last.

He could smell the smell he needed so much.

The smell of sweat, stale smoke and alcohol.

The smell of Floyd.

He tried to move so he could look at him. Floyd felt the sudden movement and was immediately alert.

"Spence?"

"Yush."

"Ssshhh – don't talk."

"I don feeee t goo." Slurring his words over the huge does of antipsychotics he had downed.

"Don't try to talk. You are going to be fine. I am here."

"m sorry." Hands reaching out.

"It's ok ….I shouldn't have left you there. You did good. Proud of you." He handed Reid a flask of water. "You thirsty? Drink this. It's only water. I promise. No tricks." And a big smile.

"Um ya." Reid's hands twitched and shook so much he couldn't take the flask so Flanders helped him take a good drink of it.

"Now lay down again. I need to try to work out what to do."

"I wan g home."

"Yeah me too babes."

……………

The medics rushed around JJ as she lay with blood bubbling between her lips. It looked to Morgan like she was smiling.

"Prentiss, go and get Hotch, call SWAT and get Hotch. I will stay with JJ."

"Why did he do that? I just don't understand what goes through that mans head."

"No point in trying to work him out. People like that just don't do the expected. Hotch, hurry."

Morgan's phone bleeped. He flipped it open. "Morgan."

"Oh my god Derek!" Haley.

"Haley, I told you to keep your phone off. I said not to open your emails." Worried voice.

"Pictures Derek. They were sent to my sister. God Derek what has happened?"

"It's fine Haley. Aaron is fine. We are just on our way to pick him up." Watching Emily running over to an SUV and talking on her phone.

"How the hell can you say he is fine?! Have you actually looked at those pictures? All of them?! My god Derek!"

"Haley maybe we have been sent different pictures. Do you think you can forward them on to me?"

……………..

He lay in the front seat of the car a grey fog laying over everything. Unable to quite talk properly or think properly or move properly. The voices slowly coming back into focus but for now he was able to ignore them.

……………

Hotch was sitting with his back to the wall when rescue finally came. He felt bruised and battered but otherwise not so bad. The medics gave him a quick check but there didn't seem to be anything worse than some bad marks which would fade and not scar. He was lucky. Yes Agent Aaron was very lucky. Well Flanders thought he was anyway.

Prentiss gave him a run down on what had been going on, and the condition of JJ, and the reasons they let Flanders take Reid

"You handed him over to that madman?"

"Sir it seemed like the only thing to do. We needed to recover a federal agent. Reid – well he is just Reid."

Hotch felt like he had been slapped and spun on Emily. "Just Reid?"

"Well sir I mean he is not part of the team now. He isn't an agent. That's what I meant sir." Desperately back peddling.

"He is a victim. He should never have been traded!"

"Sir, as far as I have seen, he is quite happy to be with Flanders. He seems content with that choice. However we may feel about it."

"And JJ?"

Emily sighed and looked at the floor. "We obviously were not expecting that."

"You were meeting with a psychotic serial killer and you didn't think to put vests on?"

"Hotch……"

But he had walked off.

…………………….

Reid was sitting in the grass under a tree. He was still shaking and the muscle under his eye wouldn't stop twitching, but he felt a lot better. Floyd had given him one of his smokes to smooth over the rough edges of the shakes and it seemed to be working for now.

He looked down at his shaking hands and the unbuttoned cuffs on his shirt. Floyd was berry picking….he could see him. He was bending down picking things of a bush carefully. He knew all about herbs and berries. Spencer looked up at the sky and breathed in big deep gulps of air. This was so good. This was so close to perfect. His hands were not shaking quite so much now. His eyes glazed over with the pleasure. Every smell and sensation tingling through him making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in pure pleasure so when the boot hit him in the face he was not expecting it.

"What the hell?!" And Flanders was shouting at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Wha!" Laying on his back in the dirt. Pain in his face.

"I know you are not stupid Spencer so tell me why you do this?"

"What?!" confused look on his face.

Flanders grabbed his arm and twisted it so he could see the row of new burns. "This shit! Why do you do this Spence? I told you to talk to me. I told you that! Why don't you trust me? You know I won't hurt you!"

"You just kicked me in the face! That hurt!"

"What?" And now a confused look on Flanders face.

"Yes kicking me in the face hurts!" Pulling his sleeves down over his arms and doing up the buttons on the cuffs with shaky hands.

"Let me help you Spence." Kneeling down next to him.

"No." soft quiet voice.

"I have to do it Spence. That's the only way you will learn. I have to hurt you."

"I know."

………………………..


	8. Chapter 8 Shadows

Shadows

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. Flanders is.

_Dear Gideon,_

_I am writing this while I can. I need to explain some things to you…………………………_

"What's this?" The paper was ripped from Reid's hand.

Big eyes looking back. A slow shake of the head. The paper was ripped and held in tight hot fists. Reid shuffled back from where he was sitting on the hard packed ground, hands coming up to protect his face.

"Have you been contacting Gideon?"

Pulling his knees up and keeping his head down. Tight ball, the best way to protect internal organs. "No." scared whisper.

"Then what the hell is this?" Showing the paper. "Look at me Spence, get your dirty hands off your face."

Eyes looking into the distance, unfocused. "What? No, I won't."

"You are contacting Gideon. This is against the rules Spence. You know this don't you? You remember why we have rules? You know why I set these boundaries for you?" Standing in front of Reid. A slow nod from Reid. "Then tell me, because it feels like you just – keep – forgetting!"

A deep breath. "To stop me doing stupid shit." Rocking, trembling hands.

"Good, word perfect. Like a parrot. Like a freak." Bits of paper falling on Reid and footsteps walking away.

_He left you alone._

_He is getting weak_

_He will kill you one day._

"No no he won't"

Flanders spun around "No he won't what?"

_Stupid stupid stupid freaking pervert….that was stupid._

Reid jumped to his feet rubbing at this temples. Eyes flicking everywhere but on Flanders.

_Don't look at him._

_It will kill you if you look at him._

"No no…that was JJ." Backing away from Flanders with his head down.

"What was JJ? What the hell are you talking about?"

_He's coming for you._

_He doesn't care for you._

_He just wants to see you in pain._

_Don't look at him!_

_He will eat your spirit._

"Are we – are we?" Shaking his head and balling his fists. The greyness gathering around the edge of his eyes. Flies everywhere, where did all these flies come from?

"Spence, what's wrong?" Standing watching him.

"F f f f wu………….." A long drawn out scream as his legs gave way and he knelt in the dirt flailing at the flies. In his hair. Pulling at his hair. In his eyes. Oh god not the eyes!

Floyd had never seen Reid like this before, and it took a few seconds of gaping mouthed surprise before he sprung into action and ran for the SUV.

_They will eat you alive. _

He was grabbing packs and small boxes out of the trunk of the vehicle listening to Reid's screams of fear. Flies? Was that Flies he was screaming over and over? He pulled out a small phial and a needle. Hands shaking slightly with the panic rising from deep down inside. He hated feeling panic. It was new to him, and it was not good. Sweaty hands trying to pierce the needle through the rubber top. Drawing out an amount. How much? He couldn't think with all that noise going on. Shut up Spence. Grabbing some length of rubber tubing from a box.

"Shut up!" shouting angrily. Drawing up 100mg into the syringe. "I can't think straight Spence Stop it!!"

He turned around again to see Reid on his face in the dirt screaming something about the flies and tearing at his hair. He could see clumps of hair in between Spencer's fingers, and smears of blood on the back of his hands as he ripped at his hair. He ran to his side and knelt next to him. He held the syringe up and tapped to remove the air, and squirted an amount out of the end.

"Spence, let me help you. Turn over. Let me – erm - help you get rid of them. Spence babes I need your arm." He wrapped the tubing around his arm and tied it tight.

Tobias?

Is that you?

Tobias?

Help me!

"Spence! Listen. Let me have your arm."

_Don't look at him._

_It will destroy your soul._

_You will become nothing._

_He will delete you._

_Don't look at him._

Flanders pulled one of Reid's hands out of his hair and knelt on it. This wasn't going to work. This was going to fail. This can't fail. He had to help his Spencer. Twisting Spencer's arm around he finally got to the inner elbow. Thank god this was the arm with not so much damage already done to it. He found a vein and slid the needle in quickly before he lost it and depressed the plunger. He let about half of the liquid enter Reid before he pulled it out again, and sat on heels seeing if it had an effect. He had no idea how long this stuff took to work.

He pulled the band off Reid's arm as he saw him gradually slow down, and the screams turned to whimpering. What did this stuff do? He wrapped the rubber tubing around his own arm, and found a vein.

He lay down in the dirt next to Reid and put his arms around him. "It's OK. I fixed it for you." And he slid the needle into his own vein. Just to see what would happen.

……………

Oh my, so much fuss over little me. So many people running around. Hey is that Morgan again? People poking at me, and pulling me around. Oh…that's not nice…Don't touch a lady there! Goodness me!

……………

Hotchner was in a tempter most foul when he entered the hospital. People gave him funny looks because of the state of his face. Bloodied nose, split lip, cut above his eyebrow. Clever, all the things to make it look worse than it was. His anger over this whole situation was making his blood boil. His hair was messed up and sticking up and falling over his forehead. His normal professional exterior had evaporated, and he was showing the vulnerable side of himself. Something he hated people to see. How the hell did they let this happen? What were they thinking? He wiped the blood from under his nose and straightened his tie as a doctor approached.

"Sir, can I assist you?"

He wanted to show his badge, but that had been taken along with his guns.

"I am Agent Hotchner. One of my team members has been shot. Take me to her."

"I am sorry sir, do you have your ID?"

"Get Agent Morgan. He will vouch for me. Quickly."

"I am sorry sir. If you wait here I will get someone to help you."

"Where is there a phone?" He marched over to the nurses' station and pick up a phone. "Outside line."

"nine."

Hotch dialled Morgan's number and told him in no uncertain terms to get down here now and tell him what the hell had happened.

………………..

It was a creeping slow peace which Spence suddenly found himself in. Dreaming of when he was a child and his dad had taken him to Disney Land. They rode the rides together screaming in delight, and ate too much cotton candy, and too much chocolate. Felt the tender way his father guided his son through the crowds hand on shoulder and keeping him safe. He saw the parade at the end and told his father how many light bulbs were used and how much electricity it consumed and how many average households that amount could power in a week.

His dream changed and he could now feel the comforting arms wrapped around him. Keeping him safe. Keeping the shadows away. He could feel the hot breath on the back of his neck and smell the smell of Floyd. The hot musty smoky smell, and something else. Something wrong. Something bad. Something which he shouldn't be smelling.

Spencer opened his eyes. What was that? He could feel arms around him, but something was wrong. They weren't comforting. He reached for a hand and stroked it gently. Cold. The skin was cold. Reid changed his position laying in the dirt and looked behind him. Flanders was there. He was expecting that, but he was not the smiling loving Floyd he needed. He was laying on his side facing Reid, dried foam around his mouth and eyes rolled back, mouth open slightly. There was dried blood around his nose and welling in the ear facing the sky. Shaking hands reached over to Floyd's neck and felt for a pulse. So many flies so many flies…Oh god the flies.

Shadows.

…………………………..


	9. Chapter 9 Spikes

Spikes

_He who is unable to live in society, or who has no need because he is sufficient for himself, must be either a beast or a god – Aristotle _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

"It really looks much worse than it is. Through and through, but it did nick a lung which is why it looks so bad. Yes Agent Hotchner it will heal nicely. As long as there is no infection. Your agent will be here for a while yet though. Now can I please suggest that you go and get yourself seen to?"

Morgan was hovering. They had been pulled off the case of the missing tourists and another team (not as good as them though!) had been sent in their stead. With two agents down and one still not replaced they were sorely depleted.

"Sir, Hotch, I need to tell you something before you contact Mrs. Hotchner."

Aaron spun on him "Haley? What's happened to Haley?" His face lost the small amount of colour it still held.

"Sir, Mrs Hotchner is unharmed. She received some pictures though. Upsetting. Compromising. I think you need to see them before you contact her." Morgan handed over his phone for Hotch.

……………..

Reid pulled away from the cold form of Floyd. Flies everywhere, buzzing. Stuck to his fingers. Things crawling under his fingernails. In his eyes…they were in his eyes….they were everywhere. He curled up in a ball on the ground and put his hands over his head and lay whimpering as the shadows came closer. Whispering things and shouting obscenities at him curling around his feet and trying to get in his ears.

"SPENCE!" a voice. Distant and foggy. A long way off.

Someone looking for him, but the shadows are too thick…they are too many….to many flies…to many flies. Something pulling his arm. Something holding him and hurting him. Biting his arm. Things biting his arm. Something - too many - too much. Darkness.

……………

Spencer's sudden movement had awoken Floyd. He felt his fingers running over his hand, and he watched as he turned and looked at him. The expression was wrong. The eyes. Something still not right. He watched Spence reach over and touch him gently on the neck, and saw him recoil and back off. His hands shaking and his body trembling, and that look of absolute terror. He was staring at his hands…then waving them over his face. Rubbing at his eyes, then he watched as he curled up and lay lost on the ground.

Flanders looked at the needle he had stuck in his arm. He got up and ran back to the car and put more of the drug in the needle. Had he already given Spence too much? Was this an over dose? Or had he not given him enough? He still couldn't think. His genius brain was as useless as Reid's right now. He needed to do something quickly. He needed his Spencer back! Thinking that the amount he had stuck in himself had done nothing but make him feel twitchy for a while he sucked up another 50 of the chemical, pulled the rubber off his own arm, and ran to Spencer. He managed to get his arm and wrap the tube around him again….

"I hope I am not killing you Spence." A pause. "You won't mind if I use bits after will you. I could make a pretty doll out of you." A pause. "I would rather have you back though. Please don't die. I'm not ready." He slid the needle into Spencer's arm and he depressed the plunger. "Please get better Spence." And a kiss on his ear.

He bent down and picked Spencer up and carried him to the backseat of the car and lay him there. Safe. And as Spencer seemed so calm and relaxed, Floyd joined him in the back and comforted him.

……………

Jacks had a job as a mechanic at a backstreet garage. It wasn't much money, but parole insisted he worked, and someone like him with his background wasn't going to go and get a job anywhere half decent.

He had his head under the bonnet of an old banger when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He sighed and wiped his greasy hands on an old cloth then down his trousers. He pulled the still buzzing phone out of his pocket.

"Jacks."

"I need transport."

"We had a deal."

"Rules have changed. I need transport."

"Not happy about this. We had an arrangement."

"I don't expect you to be happy. Do I sound happy?"

"Well."

"No I don't! I am a long long way from happy Mr Jacks. Get me transport. I will call you back in an hour."

"I need more time."

"Well you don't have it. One hour Mr Jacks. Or I will be coming down to show you how angry I can get. You want me to show you again?"

"OK…an hour! What do you need?"

"I will swap this SUV I have here for something. Need to be able to sleep in it."

And the line went dead.

"Goddamnit!" Jacks Walked over to where the owner was sitting drinking coffee. "I'm off. Need to run in the engine on that van. I'll bring it back tomorrow."

The man just nodded and carried on talking to some tart on the phone.

……….

Floyd went back to check up on Spencer. He was too hot; he had a fever or something. Everything was going very wrong. He hadn't woken up yet. Even after a good massage he had slept. He could see his eyes twitching under his eyelids and his hands twitching and clenching and unclenching. He wiped a wet cloth over his face and pulled off his shirt which was sticking to him. Then he sat and talked in a calm quiet voice. He talked about anything he could think of. Just so if Spence could hear from behind where he had disappeared to he would know Floyd was here.

Reid was back in that dark place full of shadows. They wrapped themselves around his mind and refused to go away. They wound themselves around the endless noise in the back of his mind. They seeped through his skin and invaded his blood and it pumped too fast and too hot through his body. Vaguely he could feel someone wiping his face with cool water, and faintly in the background the continual buzzing of flies.

………………

Flanders stood at the side of an old cut through road leading up to the mountains. He was irritable and cross. Jacks was late, he had given him directions so where the hell was he? He stood back into the undergrowth at the side of the road as he heard the faint sound of a vehicle approaching. A black van slowed down and stopped at the side of the road, and Jacks got out. Flanders stepped out to meet him.

"With me. I need help."

"I agreed to get you transport. I want nothing to do with the shit you get up to."

"I agreed not to smear you over the countryside if you did what I said."

"Fine! What do you need?"

He took Jacks to the SUV. "Spence. I need you to put him in the back of the van for me."

"What the hell?" he leaned over Reid and took in his appearance. "What the hell happened?"

………….

He felt the arms around him and he felt himself being moved. The smell was wrong though. Oil and dirt, but not Flanders dirt. He tried to talk but could only dribble and make soft whimpering sounds. What was going on? Where was his security? He tried to open his eyes just a crack but someone had glued them shut for a prank. He was now laying down again and voices a long way off. Probably miles away. Then he was moving again. This time in a vehicle.

And words he needed to hear.

"I am taking you home Spence."

…………

Hotch found somewhere quiet where he could call his wife. He had no idea what he was going to say. He still had Morgan's phone in his hand and was flicking through the pictures Haley had seen and Haley's sister had seen.

"Haley - yes I am fine. No - No Photoshopped darling." A lie - Listening to distressed voice. "Yes Haley, a few bruises I am alright. I promise." A lie again. "I know I am sorry – yes I promise. Can I talk to Jack? Oh Ok, yes I understand – yes – tomorrow." And he closed the phone with a deep sigh. He will personally kill that man. Hotch sat down and put his head in his hands.

…………

Mrs Gordon got a phone call. She talked to someone for a while. She looked worried. She looked afraid. She nodded. She got up and took a key from under her ornamental teapot and left her little house. She walked across the cobbled road to the building opposite and down the ally way at the side. She unlocked the door at the back and turned on the lights. She went upstairs and checked the bedroom was not a mess, opened the window to get rid of the odd musty smell, and turned back the covers on the bed. Then she returned to the kitchen and put the kettle on. She left the building and walked back home, grabbed a carton of milk from her fridge and returned to the kitchen across the road and sat and waited.

…………….


	10. Chapter 10 Watched

Watched

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

He woke up in bed. How he got there he had no idea. He was in boxers and a vest; the covers were pulled up around his back. He lay on his front thinking. He was at home. Had it all be a terrible nightmare? He could smell stale sweat on himself. He really could do with a shower. The smell of coffee was making his nose twitch. Rolling over and across he moved to sit on side of the bed. Thumping awful pain in his head. Moving a hand up to his temples for a quick rub. His eyes locked on the marks on his arms. Needle marks? He moved his arm down again and looked carefully and run his finger slowly over the puncture marks. Where the hell had they come from?

Footsteps outside the door. Floyd! A knock on the door. Floyd wouldn't knock. On slightly wobbly legs he got up and opened the door. Mrs Gorden? He slammed the door again and grabbed his robe off the back of the door. He slowly opened the door again.

"Dr Franks, nice to see you awake. You had flu. You r- erm - Mr Franks asked me to keep an eye on you." His eyes shot to the floor.

"Oh right. He's not here?" Hands twisting

"Oh no Dr Franks, I haven't seen him as such. I got a phone call and went to pick you up, and brought you home."

"Oh right. Coffee?"

"Yes dear. And a lot of people wanting to talk to you and this." She handed him a letter. "Mr Franks asked me to give this to you as soon as you wake up."

He took it, and old habits made him put it to his face and inhale. "Thank you Mrs Gordon. I need to shower and get dressed."

"Yes. I will make you some eggs."

"Oh no – no – its ok. Coffee will be great." He went back into his room and sat on the bed looking at Floyd's hand writing on the envelope. Carefully he opened it, and pulled out the letter.

_Spencer,_

_I won't be far. I am never far. Keep the shop running. Keep safe. Keep to the rules. Stay out of the cellar._

_Floyd._

He was gone again. Abandoned again. A single wet drop landed on the paper. He screwed it up in his fist. Angry. Why did he keep running away? Why couldn't he just stay with him? He needed him! Reid changed his mind about the shower and grabbed some random clothes from the cupboard and pulled them on over his boxers and vest. He really couldn't be bothered to do anything else right now. He walked down stairs and into the kitchen. Mrs Gordon had poured the coffee and placed it next to a pot of sugar. He looked at both and poured sugar from the bowl into his mug and stirred it lazily.

"Dr Franks."

He made a small nod.

"Mr Franks was very insistent. I am to make sure you take one of these everyday." And she put a blue capsule on the table.

"I really don't need that." He glanced at it out of the corner of his eyes.

"He said you would say that and I was to tell you that he knows best."

A big sigh and snatching up the capsule and swallowing it down with a gulp of much too hot coffee. "I am going to open the shop. Thank you Mrs Gordon you may leave now." He started to walk away towards the back of the shop.

"Dr Franks, I am across the road if you need me. I will be back later."

He nodded and walked off through the door. Mrs Gordon would have considered this man very rude if she didn't know he was a bit funny in the head. Some kind of mental disease they were saying, though how someone who was not right up top could run a shop was beyond her.

Spencer walked to the door and flicked the lock and pulled the blinds up. He pulled the door open to let in some fresh air. The store had been closed for a while. It was good to be home, but he needed Floyd here too.

He went back to the kitchen and grabbed his coffee….added more sugar to it and returned to the shop. Customer. OK. Rules. Remember the rules.

Carefully. A bit too carefully, his hands were trembling. He picked up his glasses and put them on and took a deep breath. "Can I help you?" Avoid looking at the customer.

"Dr Reid?" He was sure his heart just stopped. The trembling got worse.

"Franks." Clenching his fists and grinding teeth. Not a good start – no not good. Nothing good here. Don't panic.

"We need to talk to you about Mr Flanders." He was going to be sick.

"Wh wh wh do'y need tknow" Great cant talk now. He glanced over to who was in the shop. Three suits. The door had been closed and he watched one of the men flip the lock. "Erm – don't l l l lock the d d door."

"Don't tell us what to do you little shit!" shouting in his face. He stepped back, his heart pounding. Remember the rules. Remember you are – were a profiler. You know they are trying to intimidate you. Stay calm.

"Ok ok – I I I d d don't know if I c c can help you." He did good. Well done Spence.

"Can you look at us when we talk to you?" Another voice.

"Oh." Shaking his head. "Rather not. What was it you needed to know?" That's brilliant Spencer !

They were stepping closer. Into his space. Backing further away.

"Stand still. And tell us now where Flanders is."

Now he was swaying, and really was going to be sick. "I don't know." Hand to mouth, and face to trash can under counter. Violently sick. Coming out of his nose, it exited his body with such a need. Bile and coffee. Holding onto the counter with one hand to stop himself falling over.

Someone grabbed a chair and pulled him over to sit and something being waved under his nose. He squinted at it. Pictures. Pictures of mutilated bodies. He had seen worse. That didn't freak him out. He looked at them. Nasty.

"He did this." They told him and flapped them around some more.

"No – no he wouldn't do that." Yes he would – you know he would. "I am sorry. I can't help you. I have no idea where he is." Hands twisting and twisting.

Hands on his shirt and pulling him to his feet again. "How do you contact him?" Avoiding eye contact. Being shaken and shouted at.

"I I I had flu. I haven't seen him. I haven't contacted him." Trying to twist away from this man.

"You haven't had flu! You are a certified Section eight nut job."

Puzzled look. "Medical discharges for psychological – psychiatric reasons are now covered by a number of regulations. In the Army such discharges are handled under the provisions of Army Regulation (AR) six three five – two zero zero, Active Duty Enlisted Administrative Separations. Chapter five, paragraph thirteen governs the separation of personnel medically diagnosed with a personality disorder. The practice of discharging homosexual service members under Section eight ceased after the 'don't ask don't tell' policy went into effect during the Clinton administration……………." A slap across the face stopped him mid stream.

"Shut up." Hand under Reid's chin pulled his face up in line with whoever this suit was. His face so close Reid could feel the moisture from his words on his face. His hand came up to wipe his face but he was grabbed by the wrist by suit number two.

"Don't even think about it." And his hand was pulled down and wrist bent back.

Suddenly a voice from the back room. "I think you need to let go of him now." Familiar voice. Where from?

"Who the hell are you?" Suit pushing Spencer to one side, where he smacked against a bookshelf and slid gracefully to the floor.

"A friend. Now remove your bounty hunting asses from Mr Franks shop now."

Reid watched as one of the men unlocked the door and pulled it open roughly. They filed out of the shop, and Mrs Gordon walked in with a worried look on her face.

Hands lifting Spencer up off the floor and manoeuvring him to the chair again. "You are a bloody mess boy." That familiar voice again. "Your friend sent me to give you a hand with your book shop here. Said you might need help lifting and crap."

Mrs Gordon walked over to see if any damage had been done to her temporary ward and she looked over at the new arrival.

"How nice to see you again Mr Mahoney. Mr Franks said you would be here today."

**A/N sorry for any stupid errors...it was real late and I had to post !!!**


	11. Chapter 11 Cut

Cut

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Morgan and Hotch were watching. There were men in buildings down the street watching. Everyone was watching. Keeping tabs. Expecting their prey the return to its roost to where it always returns to. To Reid. Phones had been tapped. Rooms has surveillance equipment installed. Reid was being watched and listened to, right down to the last tiny detail. They wouldn't miss this time. This time they would get this man who seemed impossible to hold. This creature who was eating his way through the population of America and so it would seem now up into Canada. They knew he would be back.

Reid made some phone calls. "Hello, yes this is Dr Franks, yes we still have the book for you if you are interested. Yes - apologies for the delay there has been illness. Thank you we are all OK now. Thank you for asking. No Mr Franks is not here right now. Yes I can deliver it this afternoon."

"Hello this is Dr Franks from Prince Reed's – I was wondering if you still had the tome we were talking about a few weeks ago – I realise that – We had to shut shop – illness – all recovered yes thank you. I will come to see you anytime this morning if that is convenient? Thank you."

Nothing suspect so far. All normal. As they sat in their acquired building and listened.

Reid left Mahoney in charge and head down against the world around him he walked to where the book he intended to purchase was. Cash stuffed in his pockets. One hour and a half to get there and back again. Not long, but yes, long enough. He opened the door to the tobacconists and walked quickly to the counter. He put some change on the counter and stood fidgeting.

"I am sorry. I have orders not to serve you." A very nervous voice.

Reid glanced up quickly to see the shop owner standing there looking as nervous as his voice had sounded. "What?"

"I had very – erm – strong orders, not to serve you. I would like it if you left the shop Dr Franks."

"I need a pack of ten and a lighter."

"Yes I am sure you do but I am under strict instructions Dr, and I don't want to go against those. Please leave the shop."

"But……." Hands beginning to shake and tremble. "I really – do – need – them!" Clenching and unclenching his fists. Trying to stop the shaking feel of losing control. He needed to. He really needed to.

"Go Dr Franks. Now please."

Rooted to the spot. He wasn't expecting this. His routine was gone. Slowly he turned and walked from the shop. It took all his will power to do it, and it hurt. It hurt deep down in the only place he could feel comfortable, and now it hurt there too. He looked at his watch. Then back at the door of the shop again. He really needed that pack of ten and the lighter. He stood in the street and thought what he could do. He could go to different tobacconists or even to a large store in the town, but that wasn't what he did. This is where he went. He had to think.

Vaguely in the back of his mind he could see people walking by him. He could hear children talking. He felt someone bump into him, but it didn't really matter. He needed to get back into the shop for his pack and lighter. Nothing else mattered. It consumed him.

A voice slightly too loud. A hand slightly too heavy. Someone shaking him? He pulled back his mind from the door he was looking at and tried to concentrate on what was going on.

"Reid." And someone was pulling him along the street away from the shop. He wanted to look to see who it was but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the offending shop front. "What he hell are you doing?" He could hear Mahoney. "Where have you been? Someone phoned and said you didn't turn up for the book or something. You've been gone hours."

"Oh – they wouldn't serve me. He told me to leave. I have been thinking." He was being pushed through the shop door. Dragged into the kitchen and seated at the table. Coffee on the table.

"Give me the money. I will put it away." Hands going through Reid's pockets. "Where is the money? Reid did you mislay the damned money?" Reid stood up stood looking out of the window. The voices. They were talking to him. Very insistent today.

"I don't know where the money is." Talking too slowly. He walked from the room out into the hallway. He stood for a while looking at the cellar door. He ran his fingers over the white painted door. Mahoney stood in the doorway and watched. This was not the same person he had met in jail. This was someone who was very sick. He pulled a bit of paper out of his pocket and looked at it. Frowned and replaced it carefully.

Reid half crawled up the stairs, muttering to himself and stumbled into the bathroom. The door was slammed and locked. Mahoney went back to the kitchen and tipped away the coffee Reid hadn't drunk.

……………….

Morgan and Hotch sat in a small room watching. Spying. Listening to see if they could find out what was going on. They monitored Reid's accent to the bathroom, and watched him sit on the floor next to the big tub. They could hear his breathing; heavy and deep.

You need to take back control

"I know"

You were really stupid today.

"I didn't know what to do."

You could have come home.

"That's not what I do."

But now you have lost that bit of control you had.

"I will get it from somewhere."

That money was taken.

"I have the money."

Where?

"Someone took it? There was $2,000 there."

And someone took it.

"Oh."

Hotch and Morgan could hear Reid talking quite animatedly to himself.

"What the hell is going on with him?" Morgan was watching carefully.

Aaron slowly shook his head. "I wish I knew. He should be in hospital."

"You think? He's getting worse Hotch." Watching him mumbling and rocking. "He should be somewhere being cared for. Not running this sick excuse of a bookshop."

They watched as Reid stood up and went to the bathroom cabinet. He rummaged for a while and took something in his hand but the hidden camera angle couldn't pick up what it was. He walked in a strange stilted way to the bathroom door, and sat down with his back to it.

……………..

Reid rolled up his sleeve and looked again at the rows of burn marks. Then felt slowly along his arm towards the needle marks.

"What are you from?"

You have been drugged.

"I don't know. I can't remember."

Flanders drugs you all the time. You know that.

"No he doesn't. He looks after me."

This is why you are sitting on the bathroom floor holding a blade and he is gone again?

"He will be back. He always comes back."

He won't come back. He has abandoned you.

"He will be back."

You won't see him again until it's too late.

"Leave me now. I need some quiet."

So you can mutilate yourself?

"A small cut won't scar."

……………..

Morgan was up out of his seat and going for the door.

"Morgan sit." Aaron's voice was hard.

"You are going to sit there and let him do that?"

"No but I am also not going to go running around there and let him know we are watching." Hotch picked up his phone and dialled a number. "Mr Mahoney. I go and check on your ward." And he hung up again.

They watched Mahoney looking at his phone then leaving the room and calling out for Spencer.

Their eyes flicked from Mahoney to Spencer who was now sitting with his hands in his lap and looking off into the distance. A red stain spreading over his leg where his arm rested.

Mahoney hammering on the door and shouting for him to be let in. Slowly slowly they watched Reid move around and unlatch the door and the door being forced open.

"What the hell!" And Mahoney grabbing his wrists and forcing hands open.

They were dimly aware of the amount of blood as Mahoney pulled something from Reid's palm and threw it across the floor, pulling towels down off the rail and wrapping them around his hands.

………………….

Mahoney was in a panic. His first day and this idiot was slicing into his arms and hands? This wasn't going to be as easy as he thought it would be. Flanders had run out at a bad time. He pulled Spencer up and force marched him to the bedroom and let him flop there.

"I don't believe this."

"I'm ok. You can go. I will be fine now. I just needed…….."

"Fine? This is fine?"

"He wouldn't serve me. He told me to get out of the shop."

"What were you trying to get? I'll get it for you next time. You can't go doing this 'cos someone don't like the way you smell!" Pacing the room.

"I smell?" Confused look.

"Yes buddy."

…………

From the shadows dark eyes watched. They were full of need and longing. They were full of regret and lust. A hand struck a match, and lit the cheroot in his mouth. Very briefly his face lit up in the shadows before he pulled himself back deeper.

"Sorry Spence."


	12. Chapter 12 Iolanda

Iolanda

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine

Mahoney stood and looked at what used to be Spencer Reid and frowned. This time he was going to be ok, but there was something badly wrong and he was going to make some calls.

He called a man he had talked to a lot in the past, and got some phone numbers off him, and made more calls. He pulled the bit of paper from his pocket and called a number.

Hotch and Morgan listened in and felt a small bit of relief from what was being said. Mahoney was calling in favours. Mahoney was doing something Flanders never would have. Mahoney was asking for help.

They watched Reid laying on his bed twitching and moaning and muttering random sentences at no one.

"Hotch we can't do this to him. We need to get him out of there." Morgan was on his feet again

"We need Flanders."

"And if he doesn't turn up and Reid kills himself?" Walking to the door.

"He won't. That wasn't what that was about. That was about control. In a way that was a good sign. He is still thinking." Hotch didn't take his eyes off the monitors.

"I'm not going to let this carry on Hotch, this isn't right." Opening the door.

"Derek, do you think I am enjoying this? Let's see what happens when this doctor arrives. He might have him sectioned anyway."

"How can you stay so calm?!"

"Because if I let this front drop and if I let you see how I am feeling, Derek, then he has won. Flanders has won, and I won't let that happen. He is eating human flesh. He has been feeding it to Reid, and he has to be stopped. If he sees I am not in perfect control he will take advantage. This is why you will sit down and let this scenario take place. We will wait."

……………

Mahoney opened the back door to a man in a long coat and carrying a doctor's bag. He took him straight upstairs to Reid. He was a middle aged man with thick black hair tied back.

He sat on the bed next to Spencer.

"Hello, I am Dr Iolanda. I have been asked to come and have a chat with you Spencer." He had a soft voice with a slight touch of accent to it.

"I'm fine." Reid rolled over and sat up. The towels still wrapped around his arms and hands.

"Can you show me your hands Spencer?" Slowly he pulled the towels away to show Iolanda the damage. In the scheme of things the damage was minor. It could have been far worse. Deep cuts but nothing deadly. "I am going to clean that up for you and I want you to tell me what made you want to do this to yourself today." He opened his bag and pulled out packs of stuff for cleaning minor wounds.

"I don't really feel like talking about it." Letting the doctor clean the cuts.

"I am sure you don't, but it is that or I take you back with me and you won't be wanting to do that either." Placing dressings over the fresh cuts and then pushing up his sleeves to look at his arms. "You do this regularly?"

"No – well yes – only when I need to." Watching what he doctor was doing.

"And why did you feel the need to do this today?" Looking up at Spencer with deep dark eyes. Familiar eyes.

"He wouldn't serve me. I couldn't do what I needed. I needed to take back control." Pulling his arms away and becoming lost in the doctor's eyes.

"I see. And mutilating yourself gave you control? Explain." Staring back deep down.

"I I I can't. It j j just is." Unable to unlock his eyes from the doctors.

"You are going to make your partner very cross. You do have a partner don't you?" He was writing something down on a pad. "Mr Mahoney show me what he has been given. His medications please Mr Mahoney." Still not taking his eyes off Spencer and now a hand brushing hair off his face. "It is vitally important that you pull yourself back Spencer. I know this is going to be difficult………………………….no Mr Mahoney…..I asked for the medications Spencer is taking." Mahoney shrugged.

"As far as I know that is it."

The doctor rummaged through the box of things and looked at the dosage instructions.

"No wonder he is so ill. How long has be been taking this for?"

"No clue. Only arrived today." Mahoney was looking from Reid to the doctor and back to Reid who was not taking his eyes off Iolanda.

Iolanda wrote some instructions out. "He will be taking this. Those needles; get rid of them. He can't take both, and the Geodon is what he needs to be taking. I will leave you with a script. It will take a few days for his body to get rid of the toxins but after that I am sure he will settle again. Keep an eye on him. I will be back tomorrow to see how he is."

Reid was still staring at the doctor.

"Do I know you?"

The doctor turned to look at Reid. "No no you don't know me." He smiled and left the room.

…………….

Morgan was looking confused. "What the hell was that all about?"

"I'm not sure, but I think we need a word with our Dr Iolanda." Both men grabbed jackets and left the room.

……………

They caught up with him as he was pulling his cell phone from his pocket.

"Who are you calling Iolanda?" Hotch asked as he stepped out in front of him. The doctor quickly stuffed his phone back into his pocket.

"Who's asking?" Deep dark eyes looking between Morgan and Hotch.

"FBI" Hotch showed him is badge.

Iolanda let out a big sigh. "Can my day get any better?"

"You tell us." Morgan was pulling the cell phone from the doctor's pocket. He didn't resist. "Who were you calling?" Flicking through the names on the doctor's list.

"No one. I was checking for missed calls. May I have my phone back please?" Hand out.

Morgan carried on flicking through the numbers. He reached the end and looked at the name for a while, then handed the phone to Hotch.

"Who is Cousin F?" Morgan enquired.

"Who the devil do you think? My cousin." Looking irritated

"And the F?" asked Hotch.

"Franco. Cousin Franco. Why? Why is my cousin of sudden importance to you?"

"I think you need to come with us for a chat about your cousin Dr Iolanda."

……………

He watched them peruse Iolanda.

He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and made a call.

"I need to talk to him."

Pause.

"Hello?"

"Spence."

"Where are you?"

"Cant talk really just needed to hear your voice."

"I will come to you. Where are you?"

"No."

"Why not? I need to be with you."

"Mahoney will look after you."

"I don't want him. It's you I need."

"Stand at the window Spence. I want to see you."

Reid dropped Mahoney's phone to the floor and legged it out of the room, down the stairs across the hallway out of the back door and down the passage before Mahoney could register what was going on.

Spencer stood on the cobbles in the dark night and looked around him. He was here. He could sense him. He could smell him. It was intoxicating. It was making his head swim and his body tingle. His breathing was becoming harder and rougher as he looked into the dark shadows. "Where are you?" He walked slowly into the darkness on the other side of the street.

Someone grabbed his arm and pulled him deeper into the thick darkness and down a small side ally. Something was wrong. For a second he thought that it was Floyd, but this was a much bigger person. Taller and thicker set. A hand was planted of Reid's mouth and nose then he was physically picked up and carried down the ally.

Somewhere he could hear his name being called and quick footsteps. But not quick enough, and not in the right direction.

Spencer kicked and clawed with his hands to get the hand off his face. There was no air getting to his lungs and the weird light-headedness was frighteningly familiar. He thrashed and kicked until he was dragged in through a doorway at the back of an old house and thrown to the floor. It was the three suits again.

"What? What do you want?" Scrabbling to get up off the floor.

"We want your boyfriend you little junky freak."

"What?!"

"We know he is in contact with you. We know he is here somewhere. We are going to show him what happens when he leaves you un-accompanied shall we say."

"I don't know where he is." Trying to back away as they put metal dusters on their hands.

"Don't doubt you for one minute freak but he knows where you are and when he sees what we've done to you he will not be able to keep away."

……………………


	13. Chapter 13 Clans

Clans

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine

**A/N: Chapters going up quite fast. If you would rather I slowed down and checked more carefully for errors please let me know. Right now I aim for two chapters a day; sometimes three, I might be able to force myself to cut it back to one and have it checked over better if you want. **

**Big thank-you to all my wonderful readers and reviewers!**

…………………

Tape wrapped around the mouth will stop you from screaming aloud. It doesn't stop you from screaming in your mind.

Tape wrapped around wrists held behind your back prevents you from protecting your self from a violent attack.

These were professionals. Not some street thugs. They had done this many times before and they carried out their attack in deathly silence, almost co-ordinated like a dance. One kick and smack from hard metal, two kicks and two fists. Then Reid stopped trying to count.

He wasn't really aware of the warmth that suddenly hit his face, or of the shouting, or of the hands suddenly pulling him along by the back of his shirt as he scrabbled to get to his feet on legs which wouldn't do what he was asking. He knew he couldn't breathe. He knew that he wanted to vomit. He knew the pain, but that was about all.

………………

Hotch and Morgan heard Mahoney calling for Reid. Hotch started to run back they way they had come from, and Morgan dragged Iolanda back with him. Whilst talking to Garcia on his phone.

"Yes Pen Dr Louis Iolanda, everything you have. Everything, where he was born, how long he has been over here, where else he might have been and all his professional records. Call me back – we have a situation here." And he flipped his phone shut. Morgan took Iolanda to a drain pipe and cuffed him in place. "I will be back."

He then ran after Hotch. Mahoney was still just standing calling for Reid. Hotch was asking him quietly to calm down and tell him what was going on.

"He will kill me. He showed me what he does if you don't do what he asks…..My god he is going to skin me alive. He will. I know it…my god."

"Where is Reid?" Hotch staying calm.

"I don't know! He suddenly just ran. I don't know where he went!" Beginning to hyperventilate .

……………..

Flashlights cut into the deep shadows along the side of the road and guns raised pointing looking for something. Anything.

A single gun shot and now shouting. Flashlights pointed down the small slip between the buildings and Aaron and Derek were running.

…………..

Reid could feel an arm wrapping around his chest and hot breath near his ear. He was sure people were shouting but he couldn't hear. Was it just voices in his confused head? He could taste blood in his mouth and feel something warm running from his nose. Something pressing against his head. Something hard and cold and as suddenly as it stopped the sound started again. His heart pounding too fast and hard, his breathing too shallow. Unable to get air in through a nose blocked with blood or a mouth taped. He was going to suffocate. He was going to die here tied up and beaten – again.

"Let go of him you son of a bitch." A cold hard voice.

"I knew you would come"

"You want me to blow your brains out too?"

"You want me to blow your little friends brains out?"

"If you want me, I am here. Let's go before the Feds arrive and take your prize. Let go of him."

"Well you see now you have to pay for what you did to my brothers there don't you." Hand tightening on the gun held to Reid's head.

"You just ran out of time. Deal is off."

Heavy breathing in Spencer's ear

……………………

The three brothers were just getting into the swing of this. Smack Kick Smack Kick a good routine. It worked well. They worked well together. They had been doing this since they had been the schoolyard bullies. Now they went and caught criminals on the run. It was fun. It was powerful. It was what they liked. But this – this was good too. Beating up relatives and loved ones – yes they liked this too. Therefore when from the shadows came a knife so sharp and fast that it nearly took one of the brothers heads off it was a bit of a surprise. The other two brothers pulled guns, but one of them had no time to point it at anything before his brains spewed and made a map of North Africa on the back wall. The remaining brother pulled Reid to him and kept his gun pressed right up close. This little shit will die for what just happened.

Flanders stood watching the remaining brother. His eyes looked insane. That was not a normal person behind those deep dark eyes. The remaining brother was beginning to regret this. He was not enjoying his chat. He was not going to catch his man, and his two brothers were very dead.

The last brother watched Flanders disappear back where he came from, into the deep dark shadows which seemed to consume him, as the Feds came crashing through the door. Morgan swung his gun around looking for whoever had just done this. The only alive people in the room – he hoped alive – were Reid and some guy in a suit. Two other men lay very dead on the floor.

Aaron's gun was lowering and he was talking quietly.

"You need to put your gun away and let go of him."

He stood staring at his brothers on the floor.

"You did this?" Derek asking.

"Shit no…that mad man. Flanders. Christ." He threw his gun to the floor but kept hold of Reid.

Aaron talking again. "Let go of him."

"I don't think he is breathing." And he let Spencer slide to the floor.

Aaron moved over to him and pulled the tape off his mouth. "Was this totally necessary? What was your plan? Kill Reid and capture Flanders? You didn't think this through very carefully." Looking for signs of breathing. Good all was ok. Except they had lost Flanders again. On the other hand they knew he was close, but how the hell was he avoiding them and the cameras, and the millions of eyes watching the building? How was he able to just walk through their traps and defences over and over again?

Aaron cut the binds off the back of Reid's hands and Derek lifted him and carried him carefully back to his own bed.

Hotch went back to get Dr Iolanda from where Derek had left him - who was not there anymore. At first Hotch thought he had gone back to the wrong place, but the cuffs were laying open on the ground. What the hell was going on? He picked them up and ran back to the house briefly wondering where Mahoney was.

The whole street was swarming with cops. If Flanders was there they would find him. He pitied the man who did.

Morgan's phone bleeped.

"Hey sugar" Morgan's normal flirty tone shallow. "What do you have for me?" Flicking onto speaker so Aaron could hear.

"Well – As far as professional records go – nothing. He has not recognised qualifications which I can find. He studies herbals and stuff. Right – he is originally from Italy. This is where things start to sound scary and familiar. I found his name on the register of a Clan as they called themselves – Gypsies - who travelled The Province of Reggio Calabria – which is southern Italy, and seems the family had been in the area of Mammola for many years, then suddenly moved on. They started to move about twenty-five years ago. The whole Clan. I did a cross reference for something which might have made them suddenly leave where they had been for decades and found a report of animal mutilations and some suspected poisonings of children. I don't pick up on his again until he arrives in England about five years later. They were settled on the southern coast of England for a few years until they suddenly up rooted again and got passage to America on a ship. Again I cross referenced anything which would have made them move, and again animal mutilations and poisonings coupled with some disappearances of locals."

"Wonderful baby girl. I don't suppose you have the Clan name do you?"

"Franks or Franco. It seems they either used either or they changed it when they arrived here. They are here illegally and the family was about twenty strong when they arrived. I will send you a list of names. I am sure you will recognise one of them." And a sigh.

"Thank you Pen." And he closed his phone.

……………

Reid's mind pulled itself closed again. Tomorrow he would let it open. Tonight he will dream. He will dream and will awaken with tears. Dreams made of rainbows and smells of need and want. He will talk to himself and cry out for help and will call for Floyd. Aaron will wipe a cloth over this face where blood had gushed from one of the brothers and will wipe Reid's own blood from his nose. The he will sit and watch. Morgan will talk to the bounty hunter about what happened in the old house and will have him arrested for kidnapping and for pummelling an unarmed and restrained mentally ill man.

Mahoney was gone. There was no sign of Iolanda or of Flanders. The shadows had devoured them.

……………

It was the early hours of the morning when Aaron's phone bleeped. He checked the caller ID. No one he knew. "Hotchner."

"Is he alright?" Flanders voice. Heavy breathing.

Aaron put the phone on speaker and signalled Morgan to get a trace.

"I don't know."

"You know I mean him no harm. You know." Heavy breathing.

"I don't know that." Holding on to him calm. Keeping professional.

"Be gentle with him Agent Aaron Hotchner." Almost a whisper.

"I always am. It isn't me who did this to him. I was you. You understand that don't you?" Keeping him on the line.

"No – You don't understand. He learns so slowly. I have to do that or he won't remember." Talking really slowly.

"Is this how your father taught you the rules? Did your father beat and drug you until you couldn't think for yourself anymore? Is this why you do these things?"

"You have – no – idea!" Sharp intake of breath. "I need to know he will be alright."

"Do you learn slowly Flanders? Did your family drug and abuse you for what you were doing?"

"Stop – stop – stop. It won't work with me Agent Aaron Hotchner.

"You need to face facts Flanders. Your mind is far more fractured than Spencer's here will ever be. You are a weak stupid bully. There is nothing else." Watching Morgan talking on the phone.

"I saved him. I risked me for him." Was he getting flustered?

"No you didn't save him. We did. You ran away again. Your family are good at running away aren't they? First sign of trouble and they are off."

"I – need to – know – he is – alright!" shouting

"Well that is information I am not willing to give you."

……………………….

Flanders stood in shadows and looked at the lump laying at his feet. Not willing to give him information? He dropped the phone to the ground but left it connected and walked deeper into the darkness. Aaron would look after him. He didn't like it, but he knew the man would do what was needed. He wouldn't hurt him. He lit up and moved away quietly.

"I'm not fractured."

"I'm not running."

"I saved him."

"I love him."

……………………….


	14. Chapter 14 Disconnected

Disconnected.

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Walking slowly and mindful of the sound he footsteps make. Moving as silently as he can. Every crack in the floorboards releasing a sigh of despair. Each step carefully chosen. One foot in front of the other. Unaware of anything but the sound of his feet on the floor, and the moaning of his breath with the gentle wrump of his heart. His final destination governed not by himself but some far away mind pulling him forwards. Dragging him to the small door in the hallway. The cellar door.

Aaron watched Spencer walk out of the room. He seemed to be sleep walking. His eyes open but looking far away at something only he could see, and listening to sounds only he could hear. He moved strangely. His joints stiff. Not the normal free way he would normally walk. Not the walk that Aaron so liked to watch from behind. This was different and wrong. Even knowing that Reid must be in pain from the beating he had recently taken this was wrong. Hotch followed him at a distance.

Reid ran his fingers over the paint work. Aaron was sure he was making odd whimpering noises. Like an animal. He watched Reid stare through the door into the darkness of the cellar. He stood like this for about ten minutes then walked slowly – impossibly slowly back up the stairs and to bed.

……………

He knew that if he made but the slightest noise he would lose contact with the floor and start to fly. One hundred percent concentration was needed here. So much brain skill would be needed in-fact that the rest of sensory input would be turned off. He let the shadows guide him to where they wanted him. In silence. The pain he felt in his heart when he found where the shadows had dragged him to made him want to cry out in frustration. He could see down the stairs into the cellar but there was a barrier preventing him from going down there. "Don't go in the cellar Babes." A place. A special place. Their place and if he made a noise now it would disappear. Be gone. And with that Floyd would be gone too. A sound escaped his throat and he knew he must leave. Patiently he waited for the shadows to take him again and guide him sightlessly and silently back to his bed.

………………

Early morning and Prentiss called from the hospital. JJ was doing fine. She was awake and talking and fine. All was fine.

It would be good if all was really fine.

Spencer got off the bed he was laying on in the morning and walked down stairs like nothing unusual had happened the night before. He was grubby and unshaven and still in the clothes he had been wearing the day before. A dark stain of blood still on the leg of his trousers. He had pulled the dressings off his arms at some point. Spencer walked down to the kitchen. He hadn't even acknowledged Hotch and he made coffee. Aaron followed him. Reid then walked out to the shop and turned on the lights and pulled up the blinds and unlocked the door. Then went and sat on the stool behind the counter. Eyes looking off into nowhere.

"Reid?"

It was like someone had let a bomb off under him. He squealed and fell off the stood.

"Aaron! Where the hell did you suddenly come from?" A big friendly natural smile. One Aaron hadn't seen in a while.

"Reid, I have been here all night."

Spencer stared back at him a look of disbelief on his face. "You stayed the night? Here? With me?"

"Reid, you need to get changed and shower."

"No – need to keep the shop running. We have – I have made a huge loss." Pulling himself off the floor and back to the stool

"You can't serve people looking like that Spencer."

Reid looked down at himself and ran fingers over his face. "OK. Five minutes. Hold the fort for me?"

Aaron nodded as he watched this strange new Reid walk away through the door at the back of the shop. At least he was walking the walk again. And Aaron smiled.

………………

Reid went to the bathroom and slowly and methodically shaved and stood looking in the mirror.

Where are you?

Running fingers over the mirror.

Where are you?

He walked back down to the shop. Hotch noticed that Spencer still hadn't changed his clothes blood encrusted and sweaty, or put a brush to his mop of hair.

"Come with me and I will help you sort yourself out." A hand on Reid's shoulder. A caring hand.

Spencer jumped back from the touch. Something deep down inside told him that was wrong. "It's ok!" a fast and worried voice. "I am ok. Just don't touch me. I don't need to be mothered Aaron. I am ok." He pushed his messy hair behind his ears.

………………..

Flanders walked. He walked for hours. He walked all night and now it was morning and he was still walking.

"They don't understand. I was protecting him. Why don't they understand?"

He looked at the cell phone he had taken from someone and punched in a number. He listened to the phone ringing.

"What do you want?"

"You knew it was me?"

"Who else would it be?"

"Need you to understand."

"I don't need to listen to your excused Flanders."

"Aaron, is he alright, have you given him his meds? He needs a blue capsule every morning. It keeps the voices away. Please Aaron."

"He doesn't need your sort of help Flanders. You only seem to be any good at destroying things. You are incapable of empathy."

Flanders walking in fast irritated circles. "He – needs – those – MEDS!"

"No Flanders he doesn't."

"You bastard son of a bitch!"

Hotch looked up to see Reid staring at him with the hugest eyes he had ever seen, even on Reid. "Give me that phone." And Reid had launched himself on Aaron snatching at the phone.

"No Reid." and he snapped the phone shut before Reid could talk to Flanders.

"That was Floyd?" Puzzled look. "Why is he calling you?"

"To see if you are ok. He won't get near you again. Don't worry."

"He called you? Why did he call you? Give me the phone Hotch."

"I told you, to see if you are alright."

Reid stood staring at Hotch for a few seconds, and then started to back off. "What's going on? Why are you here? Where is Floyd?" he left the shop via the back and entered the kitchen. Mrs Gordon was pouring coffee, "Get out! Get out of my home!" He dragged open a drawer in the table and pulled out a fist full of cheroots and a lighter.

"I am going for walk. I need fresh air. When I get back I want you all gone. That includes you Agent Aaron Hotchner." He turned back to Hotch. "I haven't done anything wrong Hotch. This is harassment. You will leave me alone and stop stalking me!" He lit up and left by the back door. Hot tears of anger prickling behind his eyes.

…………

Flanders sat on a rock in middle of no where. Surrounded by scrubland and nothing. He stared off into the distance and called his love back to him. The feeling of loss ripped his soul apart and caused a pain so deep he thought it would kill him. Then it is mended by the rush of love and adrenaline when they are reunited. He couldn't help it. He would get them settled, and just have to throw it all away so he could feel the pleasure of the reunion. A very addictive drug which he couldn't get enough of. So he sat and waited and thought and called Spence back to him. He needed that rush now. He had hurt. Now he needed to mend.

Was this behaviour any different really to the way Spence would hurt himself? All a form of self loathing? Flanders knew he was an outcaste. Even the clan avoided him. Iolanda only agreed to help because he reminded him who he was. He had a feeling Louis Iolanda would be leaving this god forsaken country soon and never returning.

Or was this a control issue? Did he need to feel he had total control over someone? The way they used to control him? Through all the diabolical things he had lived through, was this his way of fighting back? He thought of the Clan and of the people who denied him as a child. Thrown to the wolves of the Clan as a small child. Then when they made their monster they threw that away too. Too afraid to look at him.

A filthy perverted freak, maybe but one who needed Dr Spencer Reid.

Come on Spence keep walking babes. I am waiting for you.

_Spence?_

I'm coming.

_You OK?_

I will be.

_You taking your meds?_

I don't need meds. Why are people trying to drug me?

_They help._

I need a clear head.

_I know Spence._

I like to be able to think and feel like I am me.

_I know but they will help to quiet the voices._

I have controlled that without drugs for as long as I can remember.

_I am trying to help._

I don't need that sort of help. Where are you? They will follow me.

_No they won't._

How do you know?

_Just keep coming Spence._

…………..

Hotch's phone bleeped again. "What now?"

"Just wondering if I can talk to Agent Derek Morgan."

"No you can't."

"Nor can you. Listen carefully. Back off from Spence. Let him go. Do not follow or I will never tell you the whereabouts of Agent Derek Morgan."

Hotch snapped the phone shut and speed dialled Morgan. It rang a couple of times then was answered.

"I told you Agent Aaron Hotchner, you can't talk to him."

"You son of a bitch."

"That is very likely. I will send you some pictures. I know you love pictures! Or I can just send them to his mother or sister? Stay in touch Aaron if I see anything to make me think you are following Spence there will be another funeral." End of call.

…………………

And Spencer kept walking through the town. He didn't notice the people staring at him and his blood stained clothes. He didn't notice mothers pulling their children away from the crazy man muttering to himself and smoking weird cigarettes. He didn't notice that his feet hurt or that his face beaten and cut from the night before hand started to bleed again. He wiped irritably at the moisture on his top lip and noted it was blood. A nose bleed and a bad headache.

…………………


	15. Chapter 15 Rock

Rock

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

How Morgan managed to be laying face up Spread Eagled on a rock was at the moment unknown, and not really too important. What was important was that some crazy bloke called Flanders was taking pictures of him on his phone. He was gagged and thankfully fully dressed. Knowing this creep he could have done all sorts of untold horrors to him, but he seemed right now to be mainly unharmed just very uncomfortable and very pissed off.

"Agent Derek Morgan I need you to know that I wish you no actual harm. I don't believe you are part of the problem here. You are a victim as am I and Spence. You will have to pay for what Agent Aaron Hotchner has done. I know you don't see me as a victim Derek, but we are all victims in the end aren't we? Except Aaron. I can never accept what he did to Spence. Sexual harassment in the workplace is disgusting. He will get his turn."

He walked around the rock. And stood next to Morgan's head.

"I shot your precious JJ, and I have removed Lewis and now your turn. If Spence is followed I will slit your throat with no regrets. I am told I am unable to empathise. Not really true is it Derek because I know you are very uncomfortable with this situation." A big smile.

He walked down to Morgan's feet, spread apart. He removed one of his boots, and pulled off a black sock and looked at his foot. A deep sigh.

"The thing is Agent Derek Morgan, that I think you really thought you were Spencer's friend. Do you know how many nights we lay together and he told me of the things you did to him. To humiliate him in front of the other team members. The constant belittling. You found that amusing didn't you Derek. It pumped up your own failing ego. Big guy with muscles and as many as girls as you wanted but that wasn't enough was it. The pretty Dr Reid was a threat so you had to make him look inadequate. A bully and I don't like bullies."

He ran a fingernail along the top of Derek's foot.

"I have admired your skin for a while now. Soft and dark. Good skin." He pulled a knife out from under his shirt. It was dirty and blood encrusted. "See this Agent Derek Morgan. You can see this can't you? This filth on my blade? This is what is left of Mahoney. I warned him. He failed. He got one chance. His filth still clings to my blade."

He picked up Derek's sock and started to clean the blade for a while. He walked back up to Morgan's head and cut the gag off him. "You thirsty?"

Morgan licked his dry lips but said nothing.

"Another quiet one? Let's get you talking shall we? I will tell you what I am going to do. You can make it easy on yourself or very difficult and therefore more painful. I am going to slide this blade under your toenail Derek, and it will hurt. You will need to keep as still as you can, as this knife is very sharp and apt to slice off a digit with no effort. If you want me to stop, just start talking. Do you understand?"

Morgan just stared at him.

Flanders moved down to Morgan's foot and crouched on the ground next to his foot. "Start talking Derek. Tell me why Aaron is being so stubborn about Spencer's medication."

"He doesn't need medication. You overdosed him. That's why he was so ill."

"Wrong answer, but you are talking so you are saved. He is has a psychosis Agent Derek Morgan. One he has been covering for many years. Elle knew he was unwell yet never thought to report it. Strange don't you think?"

"Elle? Elle knew what?" Now Derek was curious.

"Voices, that Spence had voices in his head, constantly fighting in the back of his mind and has had since he was a child." Flicking the toenail with his finger.

"She would have said something if she knew something like that."

"You would have thought, but she didn't because Spence is so good at hiding it."

"So if he is so good at hiding it why do you think he needs to be medicated?"

"He is having a psychotic episode Derek. He is very ill. I see it. Why does no one else?" Standing up again.

"You are the only one to see it Flanders because you are delusional." Spitting his reply.

"Oh buddy that was the wrong answer again. Sorry cant save you twice in one day." And he knelt down again. "Remember to keep still Derek."

The pain which shot through Derek was unbelievable as Flanders slid the blade under the nail and sliced down to the root. He then bent over the foot and ripped the nail out with his teeth. He stood up and spat it at Morgan.

"You bastard."

"Yes Derek. I think I probably am. Tell me what you know about me. I like your tattoos Derek. I might take those. What do you know about me?"

Silence.

"I will leave you to think about it. I need a break and smoke. Don't go anywhere will you?"

……………..

Reid was still walking. Luckily he wasn't alone. He had the company of voices to help him on this journey. He felt rough. His nose was still bleeding and the cuts on his face didn't seem to want to heal up. Spencer hadn't thought to bring water with him, so he smoked to dull the pain in his head and legs. His muscles ached. The sun was too hot and it felt like it was burning his skin. His eyes were burning. He removed his glasses. He didn't need them here. Spencer's hair was sticking to the blood still oozing in places on his face, and his legs were becoming too tired to walk. He sat in he dirt in the middle of nowhere and wiped blood from his nose and thought.

I don't feel too good.

_What's wrong?_

I think I am bleeding.

_You think you are?_

My head hurts.

_Keep walking to me._

I can't.

_Get up and keep walking. You are nearly here. I can feel you are close._

Come and get me.

_No. Come to me. Show me it is me you want._

Reid struggled back to his feet again, watching the blood drop into the dust by his feet.

…………….

"Hey Derek, how are you feeling? I think this ordeal might be over for you soon. So to avoid disappointment - my disappointment I am going to give you a taste of how annoyed I am with you." He walked up to the rock and stood next to Derek and looked down at him. "I think I need to make this more exciting." He went to Morgan's wrist and cut the bond then moved across and cut the other wrist bond. He stood back and smiled. "Now the feet." And he moved down and cut free one foot but left the other tied. Morgan sat up and watched his captor.

"I do love a fair fight but I prefer them when the scales are tipped in my favour." He slid the knife into the flesh of Morgan's inner thigh and drew it down. "Oh dear, you are going to bleed like a pig." Laughing he walked away and looked off into distance. Spence should be here soon. He better hurry because Derek was bleeding quite a lot there.

Morgan could feel his head swimming with the sudden pain and blood loss…he ripped off his shirt and pressed it hard against his leg. Holding it hard in place stopping the bleeding, but he was going do die out here tied to a rock if something didn't happen soon. He didn't see Flanders come back and so was not able to stop the fist which connected to his nose sending him flying back against the rock and releasing the pressure on the wound. He could feel it pumping from the wound as his heart beat faster in panic.

…………

Reid was stumbling forwards. He didn't seem to be able to see anymore. A bright white in front of him, and even that was blurry. The effort of moving on foot in front of the other was sending shots of pain all through him and then the voices screaming at him. Walking forwards. Being pulled.

Get out of the sun you will die.

He would cry if he wasn't so dehydrated that there was no moisture left in him.

…………

Flanders saw the wavering stumbling form. He was here! At last. And that feeling inside was building. That excitement which he couldn't control. It made his head spin and is body tingle. Spence was back. He always came back!

Quickly he turned to Morgan who was moving weakly and wrapped the shirt tightly around his leg in a tight tourniquet. "You will be fine. I will tell them where you are. He stood over Morgan who was obviously finding it hard to keep his eyes open. Then leaned over and kissed him gently on the mouth running his tongue over the Agents lips. "Sweet, so sweet and far better than beating your brains out on this rock don't you think?"

Flanders moved quickly now. He went to the rock he had been sitting on and wheeled from behind it a big Harley. He jumped on and rode out to fetch his Spence.

He pulled up an a cloud of dust. Spencer was just standing shaking. "Babes – you need this." And handed over a blue pill and a bottle of water. "and you don't need these" taking the smokes away from him. "Get on the back. We need to go."

Reid took the blue pill and swallowed it with the water he was given, and then slowly climbed on the back of the bike. "Hold on tight ok? Can't have you falling off and getting hurt."

Spencer wrapped his arms tightly around Floyd and rested his head on his back as they rode off across the wastelands.

……………….


	16. Chapter 16 Filth

Filth

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is mine !!!!...ok its not…Criminal Minds is not mine – I was a bit delusional – but for a second there very happy ! Flanders is mine.

Flanders could feel the arms around him and he looked down to see entwined fingers and the white knuckles on the blood smeared hands. Considering that Hotchner was meant to be intelligent, where did this great mind go when it involved Reid? Gideon would have handled this better. Indeed he was at first before he like everyone else ran out on Spence. He will never abandon his Spence. Never. He will stay with him – until – until he needed that feeling of loss again.

Right now he was still riding the high of re-union, and would be for quite a while. He pulled the bike to a stop and pulled Reid's arms from around him. "Spencer babes, I need to make a call while I still have cell reception."

He climbed off the bike and watched Reid slump forwards and just lay there. What the hell had Aaron been doing to him?!

Flanders flipped open the cell and tapped in a number.

"Where is he?"

"Well if you are going to talk to me like a bitch I will leave him to bleed."

"Where is he, and where is Mahoney?"

"Stop whining at me Aaron." He gave co-ordinates to find Morgan. "As for Mahoney – the coyotes will have what's left by now. Have a nice life Hotchner."

He dropped the phone to the floor and ground it into the dirt. Flanders put his arms around Reid and pulled him off the bike to sit on the ground. "Now let me have a good look at you." He got an old cloth and wet it with water from the bottle and wiped it over his face. "Come on Spence talk to me."

Spencer looked up at Flanders and smiled. "You found me" very quiet soft voice.

"I told you. You remember I will never abandon you completely. Even if it looks like I am gone. I'm still watching – always watching you Spence."

"I know you are. Sometimes I need more than you just watching me." His hands twisting and untwisting eyes looking over Floyds shoulder.

"Sorry, I am making your feel uncomfortable." He dropped the cloth on Spencer's lap. "Wipe some of that crap off your face Spence." Walking slightly away from his man he needed to get back to how he used to be. He didn't quite know how he was going to do this, but he had good idea of where to start.

"Floyd, come back. You don't make me feel uncomfortable. You are about the only person who doesn't."

Good – at least that part of his Spence was back again. Flanders turned to look at Reid sitting on in the dirt wiping the dirt and blood off his face and it made his body tingle with excitement. He wanted to capture this moment in his mind forever. This was almost as good as the cellar.

"Spence." Walking quickly back to him and kneeling in the dirt next to at his side. "Spence." Breathing heavily and brushing hair off his face. Reid looked up and Floyd ran his thumb over Reid's mouth. "We need to get going." And a big sigh. That isn't what he really wanted to say but that was what they needed to do. Reid stood up and grabbed one of Floyd's hands.

"Why do you keep running out on me?"

"I didn't. They came. I can't be near them." Pulling his hand out of Reid's.

"Cant you just learn to get on?"

Flanders closed his eyes. What a thought. Flanders and the FBI just 'getting on'. "No we can't learn. They want me dead. I want them dead. The only reason they are still alive is because it would hurt you too much."

"But if you explained to them. If you stopped, and………"

"Shut up Reid. You are talking like a child. Get back on the bike." That tingling was dissipating: like all drugs…the dose needed to be bigger to get the same feeling. He could just leave Reid here and come back later for him - if he could find him again. Or just call him and he would come running. He turned to look at Reid standing looking off into space, filthy and stinking. This was not the Spence he wanted. This was dirt. He had no desires for this filth.

Reid had completely failed to notice the change in Floyd's posture. It wasn't something he was looking out for so he missed the signs. He moved to the bike and started to climb on the back.

"What are you doing? Get away from the bike." Reid was pushed away and he stumbled almost falling.

"You told me to get on the bike!" puzzled and cross.

"Yeah well now I changed my mind. You stink; I don't want you near me." He walked to the panniers and pulled out a length of rope and a set of cuffs.

Spencer watched and started to back off slowly. "W w w what are you doing?"

"Giving you a lesson in personal hygiene. Put them on." He walked slowly towards Spencer. He really didn't feel like chasing him. He didn't want him to start running. "New rule Spence. You will wash everyday. You will put clean clothes on everyday. I told you to put the cuffs on."

"No."

This was the one word that made Floyd cross more than any other word; Spence saying 'no'. It was not a word he wanted to hear coming from Reid. Defiance. He really did learn slowly! Flanders closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Killing this scum here would stop the thumping in his chest, but then he would not get the feeling – that euphoria of being together again.

"Please don't argue with me. Just do it or I will smack you senseless and drag you behind the bike until there is nothing left but buzzard bait. Now – cuffs on – mouth shut."

"You forget how well I know you. You won't do that." Hardly before the last word had left his mouth he was laying on his back looking at the sky with Flanders straddling him.

"Say that again." A huge smile on his face.

"You forget how well I know you." Reid was looking confused again.

"Show me." Flanders pushed his own hair off his face and leered at Spencer laying in the dirt.

"Show you?" Looking over Floyd's shoulder.

"Yes, show me how well you know me." Lifting Reid's hands up and placing them on his chest. "Show me. Why are you trembling?"

"I I I this isn't really the place to – erm – show you." Moving his fingers over Flanders shirt buttons.

"Ya right. Lets get moving." And he jumped up and pulled Reid to his feet in one swift movement and it was now that he realised what Flanders had done. His wrists were securely held by the cuffs.

"Floyd what the hell?" he stood and watched stupidly as Floyd looped rope around the cuffs then walked back to the bike. Spencer ran behind him. "Floyd!" Trying to pull the rope out of Floyd's hands, but he was still far too weak.

"I don't want you on the back of the bike. Filth can walk." He ran the rope to about ten foot and tied it to the back of the bike. "You ready?" And he jumped onto the bike and kicked it into life. Reid tried to scramble up behind Floyd still not believing what was going on here.

A small odd noise came out of Reid's throat which caused Floyd to turn around in time to see Reid's eyes roll back and arching his back fall hard backwards and start to seize in the dust.

"Shit, not this crap again." He turned off the bike and ran back to Reid who was laying jerking in the dirt. He knew this was one of the side effects of the medication, but he didn't have anticonvulsants. He would have to get some so this would stop happening. Once Spencer had stopped fitting he quickly removed the cuffs and stuffed them back in the panniers. Then he crouched back down next to Reid trying to work out what to do next.

"Spence you OK?" he. just sat and looked at this person drooling in the dirt. Thinking quickly. "Spence babe you fell off the bike. You hit your head."

Reid lay and stared at the sky. That was a lie. He hadn't fallen off the bike. He recognised how he was feeling. His head hurt, his eyes hurt, his limbs hurt, he felt sick, and his tongue was bleeding, he had had a seizure again. Slowly he looked over at the man looking down at him. He looked annoyed, when he should be looking concerned. Did he fall off the bike and hit is head and have a seizure, or did something else happen? He couldn't remember now.

"I need to pee." Was all he could think of saying. Actually it was probably about all he could manage to say with a chomped on tongue.

…………..

They road through the wilderness for the rest of the day. They didn't talk. Spencer held on tightly wondering if he had fallen. He would have rather he had. He didn't want to think that Flanders was being untruthful. He needed that bit of comfort.

As the light began to drop Flanders pulled up near a small river. It was shallow but fast running. They stood for a while watching the fish and tossing stones. Still neither of them had spoken. Floyd because he couldn't think of anything nice to say, and Spencer because his mouth hurt and he didn't want to do something or say something to annoy this man. He noticed the slight twitching of Floyds hands and twisted his together in quiet panic.

Finally Flanders spoke. "I suppose we could both do with a wash. Strip off and I will help you get those clothes clean."

Reid nodded, and slowly started to undo his shirt buttons. Floyd stood and watched.

"You get kicks watching me?"

"Yu hu, I do. Throw me your clothes, I will wash them whilst you wash yourself."

For the next twenty minutes or so there was just the noise of splashing water as both men concentrated on the jobs in hand. Spencer sitting, was getting the last bits of something out of his hair when he felt a hand on his bare shoulder and another in his hair. The smile which was just about to spread across his face quickly disappeared as Flanders pulled Reid back into the water and held his head under with his foot across his neck.

"The rule. You will wash every day." He released a spluttering Spencer. "What's the rule?"

"W w w what?!"

He was pulled back under the water as he thrashed and tried to get Flanders fingers out of his hair then suddenly released.

"You will wash every day." Looking in Spencer's eyes. "What will you do Spence babe - what is the rule?"

"W w wa wa wa wa WASH!"

"How often?" Ready to push him under again.

"E e e ev ev ev every DAY!"

…………………….


	17. Chapter 17 Reclaim

Reclaim

**A/N: my muse is missing /sob**

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Spencer sat on the river bank with a blanket wrapped tightly around him. His mind closed in it self. His hands were twisting in his lap. His mind was twisting through the darkness he didn't seem to be able to escape. He seemed to have moments when all seemed so clear but the darkness always clawed him back again. Flanders was trying to talk to him but his brain wouldn't let him listen. His eyes were closed as he swayed to an unknown rhythm back and forth. Soft moans escaping occasionally from his slightly open mouth.

Flanders was standing in front of him "Spence!"

No he wasn't going to listen. Flanders had nothing to say which would interest him. All Flanders gave was pain. He was sure once a long time ago there was more, but now there was just hurt. He offered help, and then caused pain. Reid didn't understand it anymore. He had lost everything. It was months since he had contacted his mother. His friendship with Aaron was destroyed. Gideon was gone. He doubted Morgan was going to be too friendly to him now. It seemed like Mahoney had been murdered. All he had left was Flanders. This was it. There was nothing else and he didn't want this anymore. How could be escape from someone who killed anything which got in his way, except for himself. Flanders enjoyed torturing and bullying Spencer too much to kill him. He had to find a way to claw back some proper control here.

So for now he would just shut off and not listen. Not feel. Not anything. He would stay here until the end. He wouldn't sleep or eat until he had answers.

"Spence!" Hands on his shoulders shaking him. He rotated his neck and settled back to rocking. The muscles in his legs had relaxed enough now. They had begun to twitch and it was annoying. He would have to walk. Yes walking was good. He would walk. Reid got up pulling the blanket tighter around himself and started walking. At first it was in a bit circle. Flanders stood and watched. Reid seemed to be rolling his eyes and head in a repetitive circle over and over.

…………..

Helicopters took people to the scene. They landed a fair distance away to stop the down-rush of air destroying any small amount of evidence they might find. Morgan was out cold but alive. Recoverable. They would be able to mend Morgan. The blade hadn't cut major arteries. Doctors who inspected the wound commented on the fact that he had been cut so that the initial amount of blood would look bad, but whoever had cut Morgan knew what he was doing, and was not necessarily trying to kill the Agent. They also commented on the toe. It had been done by someone who had done this many times before. They see wounds like this in prisoners of war. Not deadly but incredibly painful. Whoever had done this was a well practiced torturer. And Hotch new Reid was with him.

Morgan had come around enough before he was taken to the choppers that to tell them that Flanders had picked someone up on a bike and the general direction they had gone in. Was it Reid? He didn't know, he was too far away, but he guessed it probably was.

The CSU followed the tracks to where Flanders had picked someone up. The someone it would appear had been bleeding. There was a blood trail going back so no, Flanders hadn't caused it.

…………..

Spencer was walking tight circles now talking to himself. Too quiet for Flanders to understand. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. This was all going wrong. This was all wrong. He ran to get a book out of panniers and sat half reading and half watching Spencer. Yes he could read almost as fast as Reid but he didn't have eidetic memory, and in his rising panic he was forgetting what he had read. Why was he panicking? He hated this new feeling. He hated this feeling of not being in total control. He didn't like the feeling of not be so sure of himself. This was not how he should be feeling. He lit a smoke and grabbed a small bag out of his pocket and put a blob of grey powder on his thumb nail and inhaled it. Control, get back control….wake up and remember the words…His head was spinning and rainbows shot up from the river. Fish swam in the rainbows and sang songs to him, so he sat and watched for a while as Reid walked in circles and talked to shadows only he could see.

When Floyd next opened his eyes he was laying on his back looking at the night sky. He then realised that someone was sitting on him. He stopped looking at the sky and looked at the face looking down at him. Spencer was straddling Floyd with a look of total euphoria on his face.

"Spence? What are you doing?" He smiled at Floyd.

"I spent time thinking and talking."

"Great, happy for you babes, now get off me." It was now that he became aware in his half drugged mind that cuffs had been attached to his wrists. "Very amusing Spencer. Now get off me and give me the keys."

"Well you see that isn't going to happen. I called them. They are coming to get you. Until then I am going to stay here." Spencer was still smiling.

"Called who? Called them on what? Keys now – please."

"I – called – them." Swaying slightly side to side.

"Spence don't do that. Get up off me. How did you call them?"

"I whispered down the river – I told them where you are. You won't keep hurting me Floyd. It's going to stop." His eyes were looking strangely amused.

"I promise you Spence, I will break your neck if you don't get off me now." He would just push Spencer off him but firstly he was rather enjoying it, and secondly the brat had looped the cuffs around his belt so he couldn't move his hands.

"Don't think you will do that. You need me to release your sadistic side. Without me who will you torture and slowly destroy? Go back to skinning cattle? I think you are beyond that now." Reid slowly started to undo Flanders shirt buttons.

"Spence stop it. You need to take your meds. You need to take them at night time. Sedative effect, they will help you sleep."

"I took one. I read your pathetic outdated book and took the recommended dose." Still sitting on Flanders swaying side to side and slowly back and forth.

"You need to stop doing that – please?" His shirt was fully undone now. Reid ran his fingers over Floyd's chest and he grinned.

"SPENCE! Stop it!"

"You are enjoying it!" Looking Flanders right in the eyes.

"No. Just stop." He started to try to roll over and get Spencer off him, but Reid just held on tighter with his thighs.

Reid reached over and picked up Flanders hunting knife. "When I was on a case in New Orleans I saw a woman doing this to a man who had raped her years previously. She restrained him and then started to cut him with a knife. At the time I had no idea what pleasure she was getting from that, but I see it now."

"Spence, listen to me."

"No, you will listen to me Flanders. Are you listening?"

"Yep Spence, I am listening to you."

"If I had a camera, which so sadly I don't – I would be a rich man now."

"What?" Floyd had totally lost the track of the conversation now.

Reid moved and got up off Flanders. "The look on your face! Priceless." He held the knife in one hand and undid the cuffs with the other.

Floyd stayed laying on the ground trying to work out if Reid had just played some sort of weird practical joke on him or not.

"Spence, are you alright?" He sat up and watched Spence put the knife and cuffs back in the pannier.

"You have been singing about fish and rainbows for half the night Floyd. I should be the one asking that."

"I have?"

"I am going to ask you Floyd to stop with this rules crap. I was washing I didn't need you to drown me too."

"I was trying to help." Flanders walked slowly over to his Spence. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You always say that Floyd, but does hurt. Consider this your warning. We are equals here Floyd, you are not to dominate me. Next time it happens I will go. I can't cope with this. It's killing me."

"Spence, you whispered down the river?"

"Yes, and you sang about fish and rainbows, so tell me which of us is losing their mind?"

………………….


	18. Chapter 18 Hit

Hit

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine:

They were both exhausted and fell asleep quickly under the big old blanket.

Reid woke up suddenly at some point and realised the normal comforting feeling of being held was not there.

………….

Floyd's sleep was disturbed by dreams and memories of the past. He managed to awaken himself and he pulled away from Spencer. Flanders lifted his hands and watched them in the moonlight. They were shaking slightly with small occasional twitches. He pulled out something to smoke and his lighter and took a deep lungful of the noxious poisons wound into the cheroot. It made him feel light headed and it made the thoughts of the past drift away again. It didn't stop the shaking though. He thought of the small pack in his pocket and wondering if just a small amount would kick this sick feeling out of the way, but he knew it wouldn't. If only it was that easy. He stood and started pacing.

He looked over at Spencer still sleeping. Peaceful. He needed some of that. He needed his mind to be able to shut down like Spencer's did. The urge to go over and wrap his hands around the sleeping face and stop the rhythmic calm breathing was almost over powering. He finished his smoke and lay back down again. Sleep came seldom to Flanders and when it did arrive it was too full of demons. He curled up on his side facing away from Spencer. He couldn't lay watching him all night.

His mind drifted back to childhood horrors and memories of things he wasn't sure were even real anymore. What he needed right now was to get completely stoned. Once again he thought of the pack in his pocket. Without thought he pulled it from his jeans pocket and looked at it. He thought of the process to make this. The collecting of herbs and fungi and the careful mixing and preparation and this, the final result: Something which wiped is mind for a short while. Just a shame he had no memory of this empty time. He sang about rainbows? He had a small pinch of it between his fingers. Spencer was sleeping, he needed to calm his mind. One small hit will hurt no one. Then again it would seem it made him vulnerable. If anyone else, if Morgan had found him like that he was sure he brain would be spread all over the wastes by now rather than the gentle teasing he got from Spence.

The small pinch was sitting there on the back of his thumb nail now. It was watching him as closely as he was watching it. Tiny grains he had ground with his own hands back when they didn't shake and twitch.

"What are you doing?" A voice suddenly dragged him back to now. His hands jumped and the pinch of powder fell to the ground. Laughing at him: mocking him.

"Spence! You made me jump." He quickly sat up trying to stuff the small bag back into his pocket. Reid was sitting on his heels watching Floyd.

"Yes I did, what are you doing. Give me that." Snatching at the bag.

"No babes, I don't share this" But Reid's hands were no match to the shaking ones Floyd seemed be in possession of and the bag was lifted and in Reid's hand before he could stop it.

"What is it?" Looking at it closely.

"Hallucinogenic, you don't need it." Hand out for Spence to return it.

"This is why you act like an animal? This is why you do that – stuff – to me?" He was looking cross. Really cross, not kitten cross.

"NO! God no Spence."

"Gee Floyd I don't know what I like the idea of best, that you know you are trying to kill me, or that you don't." Walking away with the precious bag. Flanders jumped up and followed Reid. "It's to help me sleep is all. Please Spence I need it."

Reid turned on Flanders. "You went to talk to my mum."

"What? Where did that just come from? Give me the powder Spence. I will break your arms if you don't hand it back."

"You went to talk to my mum." Looking at the small bag.

"Yes – yes I went to talk to your mum. Nice lady, we talked a lot about interesting stuff. She read to me."

"My mum read to you? What did she read to you?

"Thomas Kyd, why is it important?"

"You are lying. She doesn't read Kyd." Opening the small bag.

"NO! Spence I really mean it – don't. What does it matter what she read?"

"It just matters. I want to meet your family. I want to know them."

"Right, well that's just not going to happen. The bag Spence." Now he was getting that twitch under his eye again.

"Your family Floyd or this goes in the river." He was walking towards the river bank. This was too much. He had gone too far. Was he aware how long that stuff took to prepare? How couldn't just call his man for his next fix? This wasn't Dilaudid this was his, and no man will take it from him.

Spencer heard the scream of rage and span just in time for Flanders to land on him hands going for Spencer's throat. "Give – it – back – NOW! Or so may the gods help me I will do to you what I did to Mahoney."

Spencer looked straight back into Floyd's eyes and punched him firmly on the jaw. The hands immediately left Spencer's throat.

"You little bastard! You hit me!" Floyd lay on top of Reid and smiled. "Give me the bag babes – it is just to help me sleep – please?"

"What did my mum read to you? Where are your family?" Holding the bag out for Floyd who snatched the bag and rolled off Spencer.

"Marjory Kemp, and there are reasons I don't want you to meet my family. Just better not to OK?"

Spencer rolled over and knelt at the river edge looking at his sick reflection in the water. "What is so wrong with your family Floyd? You know mine, it only seems right – what with the names and you know?"

"You remember Iolanda? The doctor who came to see you?" He came and stood behind Spencer ruffling his messy hair.

"Oh those eyes, yes I remember him."

"Well then you have met my family – we need not visit." Spencer turned and looked up at Flanders.

"He had your eyes. Who was he?"

"The closest thing I have to a brother. I don't know really. We studded herbs and fungi together. He is brilliant. He has a brilliant mind. Come on – let's get moving now we are both awake."

"Where are we going?" Throwing small stones into the river.

"We need to get you a change of clothing if you want to meet my lot. Cant take my man there looking like a tramp."

…………….

It was a couple of hours later before they entered the outskirts of a small town. Floyd pulled up the bike and they bounced off to stretch their legs. They both had happy light feelings inside them today. The medications seemed to be working for Reid right now, and he looked relaxed. Flanders stood and looked at him for a while and smiled.

"I will go get you something to wear, its best you stay here. If I remember I will get a hair brush too."

Reid's hands went to his wind swept mess and tried to tuck it h behind his ears but it was having non of it wouldn't stay. "I don't think a brush will control this."

He sat on a bench at the edge of a park and looked across at the swings where children would be coming to play soon.

Be quick Floyd. I really hate being on my own.

He watched the bike disappear down the hill and around the corner.

Abandoned again?

"No."

He won't come back

"Leave me alone."

You might as well leave.

"I told you to leave me alone."

Will you sit here until it gets dark?

"He won't be long." His hands were twisting and twisting in time with the odd eye movements he started to make.

Go and look for him.

"I could do that."

Yes go on, you can't just sit here.

Spencer got up from the bench and shook his head vigorously. Something didn't feel right. Where the hell was Floyd? Why was he here on his own again? He looked down the hill and started to walk. He walked slowly and almost in a drunken way, with his head down, mindful not to step on a crack

"Step on a crack – break your mothers back." Cracking his knuckles.

Keep walking.

"I am, but I don't know where he is."

Gone.

"NO!" Shouting now. "He's not gone."

Where is he then?

"I am looking for him. LEAVE ME ALONE!"

He stopped walking. He had reached the street corner and didn't know which way to go now. He started to walk in a circle while he decided.

I told you he was gone.

"SHUT UP!" His hands stopped twisting and covered his ears as he began to cross the road still walking in slow circles.

…………..

Floyd was leaving a shop and about to get back on the bike when he heard the shouting. Accident maybe, he thought, but then one of those voices. He knew that voice. He got on the bike and raced to the sound of shouting.

Reid was spinning in the middle of the street with his hands over his ears. He was walking tight circles shouting broken sentences at no one. He had drawn a crowd of people staring at his odd man. Flanders jumped off the bike and ran to him, taking him cautiously by the shoulders.

A woman in pink jogging pants looked at Floyd "You know him? He is pissed out of his brains. This time of the morning. Disgusting."

"Shut your mouth bitch – you know NOTHING!" turning to Spence. "Spence – off the road ok? Walk with me babes – what's wrong?"

Flanders voice suddenly brought Spencer back. His eyes stopped their confusing movement and his hands flew to Flanders. "You came back."

Miss Pink Jogging Suit came over. "If he's not drunk what the hell is wrong with him?" Flanders ignored her.

"I went shopping Spence. I told you I was coming back." Talking slowly. "Come on – get on the bike."

Miss Pink Jogging Suit followed closely behind them. "He's on drugs isn't he? You are both druggies." Then she was laying in the road with a tooth missing.

Flanders pulled Reid onto the bike and kicked it to life. Spencer held on tightly – already the voices where fading away again. They drove for about half an hour Floyd could feel the heaviness of a sleeping Reid on his back. Maybe he should take him to meet his family. Maybe someone there had a answer.

………………..


	19. Chapter 19 Hand

Hand

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

He could feel Reid stirring so he slowed the bike down and pulled over to the side of this long hot boring road and sat waiting for him to wake up fully. The voice in his ear was the signal that Spence was properly awake now.

"Oh my head – what happened?" Flanders helped him flop off the bike onto the dust at the side of the road.

"Nothing Spence – nothing happened. You had a bad dream." Floyd sat in the dust next to him. "I've been thinking about what you said, you know about meeting the family –The Clan - if you still want to…"

"I would love to! But right now I need to wash." He put a hand to his face. "Floyd, will you give me shave?"

"Don't have razor. You will have to wait." Floyd got up and pulled a bag out of the bottomless panniers. "Bottle of water, soap and a change of clothes."

"Your knife. You can use your knife – please?"

"Get washed and changed Spence."

"No shave first – please Floyd. I hate this unshaven feeling."

Flanders looked quickly at his hands to see how much they were shaking – not too bad – he might manage this. "I don't want to cut you."

A broad smile. "Well there's a first. Come on Floyd a shave. Then I will do you."

They stood under the hot sun and Floyd shaved Reid's face. He did an ok job too. But there was no way he was going to let Reid his.

Spencer wandered off into the undergrowth and quickly wiped off the old stale sweat and pulled on the new clothes.

He re-emerged looking a bit self conscious. The clothes were black – they were cut to fit not just hang, and the shirt was slightly fitted. The cords cut low. He looked good.

"You keep dressing me up like a clown Floyd, what is it you have about me wearing odd things?"

"You look great, now come on; I fancy breakfast at a diner."

Floyd stood back and watched Reid walk his walk to the bike. It made his body tingle just watching him.

They rode for about another half hour before pulling up at a roadside diner.

"Floyd. Stay calm ok – let's just relax and have coffee – and some food."

The two of them entered the diner almost with an old western swagger. Reid in his nice new slightly dusty clothes and Floyd in his filthy grimy clothes he had been wearing for what seemed weeks.

They ordered coffee and eggs and sat at a table by the window. They could have been work mates, but the reaching across the table and touching hands and looking into eyes made it obvious there was something slightly more going on here. When then big guy with the sunburnt head sat down next to Reid he jumped and made a little noise in the back of his throat. He slid an arm around Reid but was looking at Flanders.

"We don't like your sort so take your little buddy here and get out." He gave Spencer hard squeeze around the shoulders. "He's cute; I don't want to have to mess his pretty face up because you didn't listen."

Reid's eyes locked on Flanders "W w w we are g g going." He stammered. His head was swimming and his eyes began to flick side to side.

Flanders jumped up. "Let go of him, we are going. Spence." He needed to get him out quickly before something happened.

"There off you go Spence." The guy moved away pulling Spencer with him. "Get out and don't come back." Reid pulled away from the big guy and tried to pull his mind back to wherever it was drifting off to. The diner was going out of focus and the sounds had muffled.

"Fff wwwa?" Floyd grabbed him by a hand and pulled him from the small stuffy diner.

Floyd could feel that thing building up inside of him. He needed to get out of here now before he started to kill people and right now he needed to be keeping an eye on Spence not ripping people apart and putting them back on the map again. "On the bike Spence quickly."

They rushed out of the parking lot and continued their trek down the road.

"Thank you Floyd" Reid called. "For not killing them all." He could feel the stiffness in Flanders body as he held on tighter and rested his head on his back.

The van seemed to come out of nowhere. One minute it was just the two of them riding the dusty lonely road, and the next the van was up next to them.

Spencer heard his name being called from the van "OY SPENCE!" and he felt something hit him hard on the side of the head and as the world started to go fuzzy and dark he could feel himself falling sideways into nothing: Floyd jerking suddenly and that rigidity was gone.

……………

Such pain.

Reid lay tangled with something. In pain. It was so quiet. He could hear insects buzzing. He tried to move but was pinned under something. He tried to open his eyes but they were stuck shut with something and he couldn't move his arms to wipe it off. He concentrated and tried to work out what had happened. He had been in the diner with Floyd – then what? Move your toes Spence. Move your fingers. Move something. Anything. He ran his tongue over his dry lips. They were cracked and had been bleeding. He tried calling out to someone. But his voice wasn't working. He tried calling with his mind to Floyd.

Are you there?

Floyd where are you?

Nothing, not even static.

This was not good. He could feel the sun burning his skin and he could feel pain in his legs and feet, as his toes twitched then finally moved. He turned his attention back to trying to open his eyes and move his limbs.

A tiny slit finally opened. He could see the sky. Carefully he tried to move his head to see what had happened and why he was laying in the sun pinned under something. He was dimly aware that this was probably the bike he was under but he really didn't want it to be. Anything but the bike. If it was the bike then it meant Floyd was here somewhere. Please let this be something else which had happened. His head moved. Wonderful he hadn't broken his neck.

He could see the bike. Crap – he was pinned by the bike which probably meant at least a broken leg if not worse. Slowly and carefully he moved his head to his right. He could see a hand palm up, not moving. Not his. Flanders calloused hand. He tried to find his own hand to reach out to it, but he was still on the try to move your fingers stage. Reid tried to call out again, but only managed a whispered moan.

………..

Flanders heard them calling Spencer's name and then he felt the sudden movement behind him and the sliding sensation as something hard and sharp hit his shoulder. He jerked trying to stop the bike from sliding. Spencer's arms loosened and as he attempted to slow and bring the bike to a stop it went suddenly black.

He knew he was laying in the dirt. He was on his front, and the pain had gone beyond what his brain could register and he no longer felt anything. He didn't feel the pain from the boots kicking him and stamping on the side of his face as they shouted their insults. He didn't feel them pulling something from his shoulder. Nor did he feel the other disgusting things they did to him. He could hear the laughing though, he could hear them talking about what they wanted to do to them. He heard them kicking Spencer, and he heard them leaving. Then there was nothing.

……………….

Spencer lay listening to his heart thumping and to the insects. He tried to block it out and tune in to any sound coming from Floyd, but there was nothing. He watched flies land and walk over the hand he could see. He wanted to scream, but he could barely breathe now. His breaths were starting to come short and shallow. No Spencer, breathe properly don't have a panic attack now. Not now, you need to get out from under this bike. His left leg was the one pinned, so he should be able to move his right leg, so why couldn't he? Why couldn't be move his arms? Had he broken his back? Was he going to lay here in the dirt and die watching flies landing on Floyd' hand? Was this it? The grey fuzziness crept in around the small bit of vision he had and sent him back to darkness.

…………….


	20. Chapter 20 Favours

Favours

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

When he next awoke it was dark. Spencer had to go through the routine of 'where am I and what happened' again, and a slight niggling horror that he was still laying at the side of the road and no one had seen them. He opened his eye a crack and he could still see the hand. It hadn't moved. Oh god it hadn't moved. Panic pulling bile up from the pit of his stomach. He tried to move his hand again and this time it worked. Slowly he moved his right arm across his body to try to touch the hand laying now with a slight layer of dust on it. Fingers just about to touch. Was it going to be a cold hand? Tears of fear prickled at the back of his eyes as he gently lay his hand across Floyd's. "Floyd?" he managed to whisper. His lips cracked and started to bleed, but the hand didn't have that coldness of death. But it didn't respond either. He licked his lips and tried to move his other limbs. Still his left leg was completely pinned, but he seemed to be able to move the rest of him ok. No broken back, but the leg under the bike was worrying him.

Reid twisted himself around so he was almost sitting and inspected the damage. He had been hit in the head by something. Something very hard, but it was only a cut he hoped. His hands where bloodied and his arms bleeding. His side had nasty grazes and his stomach was bruised by what looked to him, boot prints. His leg though seemed to be twisted at a funny angle. He needed to find a way to get the bike off it. He looked back over his shoulder for his first proper look at Floyd, but it was dark now so he still couldn't see.

"Floyd." Still not much above a whisper.

His only choice was to try to move forward and wedge the bike up enough to get his leg out. Then at least he would know what the damage was. Tears of pain slipping down his face. Why did everything always turn out so painful?

The angle he had managed to end up in meant he was slightly side on to the bike, which meant he could just about reach the panniers. He released the clip on the one he could get to and started to pull things out of it. Water, he had a drink of water. Rope, good he had rope: this was a start. His Geoden, should he take it? That can wait, if he cant get out from under here it wont matter. Reid moved his hand down his leg as far as he could reach and tied the rope around it. This was going to hurt. This was going to be agony. He had a look for any pain meds Floyd might have hidden and found some smokes and a box of matches.

Spencer sat and smoked until his head was spinning and the pain was fading, until everything was fading, and put his shoulder to the bike and pushed at the same time pulling the rope to try to get his leg out a big further. This probably would have been impossibly painful if his pain receptors hadn't just been closed down by the poison he was smoking. A horrendous grinding ripping sound, a popping tearing snapping sound, and he was laying on his back again only now he was screaming. The pain shot past his defences and tore through him. The familiar grey fog was approaching as he struggled to stay awake. If he was bleeding he needed to at least tourniquet it or he will be free but bleed to death in his sleep. He rummaged again and found nothing he considered safe. He lit up again, and lay back on his elbows looking at his leg. He didn't think it was bleeding externally, but what damage was under his skin?

At least he hadn't passed out and now he would be able to drag himself hopefully over to Floyd, who still didn't seem to have moved. Before he moved he grabbed the Geoden and put it in his pocket. He didn't want to have to find a way to get back here again. He left the rope tied around his leg and turned over onto his stomach. Probably not the best idea he thought as the pain belted though him and he started to drag himself the impossible distance of about five foot.

The cuts in his arms opened up again as he pulled himself over the rough ground. Why the hell had no one seen them? Do people just not stop at accidents anymore? He knew Floyd was using the roads less travelled but this was insanity. Finally after who knows how long he was level with Floyd. It had been hours, and he hadn't moved. He looked into Floyd's face. It was beautiful even under the dried on blood and the lumps of the bruises. Reid's hands were shaking, but that was shock and pain and fear. Slowly he moved his hand to Floyd's face and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"Floyd? Wake up."

He moved a hand carefully over his face and head feeling for damage in the moonlight. His hand came away sticky from the back of his head. It looked like a boot print on the side of his face. Moving his hand slowly over him he found a big damp area on his shoulder. He carefully felt around until he found what felt to be a bullet hole. Putting a hand on his shoulder he pushed him over onto his back, he made an odd gurgling noise in the back of his throat and took a deep breath but nothing else happened. Reid went through Floyds pockets and found a cell phone. He needed help, but who could he call. He didn't fancy calling EMT. They would both get locked up. He needed help who would help and not contact the authorities. The only people he knew where Hotch and Morgan. He had not idea where Gideon was. He had no option. They would die in the desert if he didn't call someone.

He pulled the blue capsule out of his pocket and dry swallowed it. "Floyd I don't know what to do. Help me out. Wake up and tell me what you want me to do."

Spencer lay back down and looked at the stars. He moved a hand down and held tightly onto Floyds. It's going to be alright, someone will come. Then the pain and shock dragged the grey over his eyes again and let him sleep.

…………….

When he awoke the hand he was holding onto was holding his back.

"Floyd?"

"Hey, you ok Spence?"

"Yes, Floyd, I thought you were dead."

"Yeah me too. Can you stand?"

"I've done something to my leg. Can you?" Still just laying looking at the sky.

"Haven't tried yet. But I don't think so." The hand squeezed tighter. "Can you try to do something babes?"

"Sure, what do you need?"

"Cell phone, if I give you a number, can you punch it in and let me talk?"

Reid held up the phone. "Already got the cell." Flanders gave a number, and Reid punched it in then held the phone to Floyd's ear.

………………..

Out by her trailer the dark haired woman was just getting ready to start her day when her cell phone rang.

"'Ello?"

"Maria its Floyd. Get Jo for me."

"Why?" Putting down what she was doing and walking towards a group of men.

"Because I told you to get him."

She held the phone up in front of her and called out. "Hey Jo it's for you."

The young dark haired man took the phone and spoke into it.

"Hey it's Jo – who's this?" Walking away from the group. Maria was standing watching looking nervous

"Floyd. I need you to come and pick me and my friend up. Now."

"Floyd go boil your head man. I aint doing favours for you."

"Stop moaning." He gave directions. "Get here quickly."

Reid took the phone and flicked it shut.

"Someone coming?"

"My cousin, he will come. He dare not."

……………….

**A/N Sorry for short chapter, but its 3am and I need to sleep and post….so its short….but I wanted to post, and I have started babbling so I am going to bed….more tomorrow….When the fun gets started again :c)**


	21. Chapter 21 Drill

Drill

**A/N Slightly longer to make up for yesterday.**

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

They lay for what felt to Reid like an eternity Floyd was drifting in and out of consciousness: Reid wished he was too. The pain was unbelievable, but some how it was keeping the voices quiet. How long was he laying under this burning sun? How long can he lay here before one or both of them are dead? Why had no one from the road seen them yet?

Reid was sure that Floyd was going to die. He hadn't moved or said anything since the call to his cousin. The hand was twitching so Reid squeezed it harder. Stay with me Floyd, don't go anywhere. He closed his eyes against the glare of the sun and waited.

"So what happened?" A new voice drifting over his mind. He opened an eye a crack. A man stood above him. Dark eyes with dark hair, those familiar eyes again.

"Bike." And he squeezed a hand which had suddenly become worryingly limp.

"Nu hu, hes been shot, boy, so what happened?" He could sense more people there but couldn't get them in line of sight. "Talking to you boy."

"I – we came off the bike." He could hear people talking and muttering. Why weren't they helping?

"OK, whatever, we need to move you two while there's still a point. Floyd don't look to well."

A laugh – why was someone laughing?

"Floyd was born sick." A woman's voice and a few chuckles of agreement. "Why are we wasting our time with this?"

Hands started to pull Reid off the ground and his connection with the limp Flanders was lost but the pain which tore through him drew the curtains of grey across his eyes, and he fell back into the black place where there was no pain.

Next time he was able to open his eyes he could feel that he was laying on his front in the back of a vehicle. Reid opened his eyes a crack. He could see a row of feet. Booted feet, seven booted feet, no eight, no six. He blinked a few times trying to get focus and brain working as one. They were driving over a badly made road, and every pot hole and lump screamed through Reid's leg. "Where – where is Floyd?" he asked barely above a whisper, afraid of the answer.

"Stella has him. They will let us know if he don't make it." The voice sounded amused. "Think you have a broken leg, but Stella will check that when we get there. Why did someone stick and arrow in our darling boy Floyd then?"

"Arrow? I didn't know they had."

"Somebody finally got the better of him. They are stupid; they should have finished him off when they had the chance. They might live to regret what they did."

…………….

Spencer was taken to a big trailer and dumped on a hard bed. It wasn't a trailer people lived in. This was more like a medical room of some kind and what he was now laying on was more like a hospital examination table. Only this was not a hospital, and these people were not doctors and he still didn't know where Floyd was. He was beginning to hear the first whisperings of panic in the back of his mind. He was left laying on the table thing looking at the grey ceiling and trying to make the voices go away.

You are done for now boy.

"Go away."

You are going to get what Floyd had for years.

"It's not like that."

Where is he then?

"He is – I don't know."

Exactly – secrets – they are keeping secrets.

"Leave me alone!"

A voice suddenly. "Dr Franks, nice to see you again." Iolanda. "You have a dislocated hip. This might hurt. No – this will hurt."

"Where is Floyd?" He could feel hands on his shoulders.

"They are drilling."

"Drilling? What?!" But anything else was lost as Iolanda pulled hard and twisted on Reid's leg.

When he woke up – yet again – he was still laying on the table and something was strapped tightly around his leg. He pushed himself up on his elbows and had a look around the room he was in properly for the first time. Fear and revulsion hit him as the place reminded him scarily of Frank's trailer. Huge blades and cutting instruments hung from the walls. He had to get out of this place and find where Flanders was. Did Iolanda say they were drilling? What the hell did he mean by that? Very slowly and carefully Reid pulled his legs over the edge of the table. As he did it, it crossed his fuzzy mind that this was probably a mistake. It looked like they had bound a broken shin and foot didn't look right, but his need to get out of that trailer right then over rode the sensible part of his brain.

It was likely someone heard him scream as he slid off the table onto the floor in a heap of blinding pain. A woman came stomping in and over to him.

"You stupid or something?" He looked up at yet another dark pair of eyes. "You can't move yet, you broke your leg and smashed your ankle. You can't walk."

"Floyd, what' going on?" Slurred voice.

"I'll help you back up on the bench, you don't want to be moving though, or that ankle will get infected. We haven't pinned it yet. They are still working with Floyd. Someone will let you know one way or the other.

………….

They dragged Flanders by his arms and threw him into the back of one of the vans. It was decided to keep the two of them apart for now until they knew what was going on and why Flanders had called them for help. This was a first. He called to threaten and cause mayhem and grief, he never called for help. This was interesting. They would monitor this new turn of events.

Once back at their base, they again dragged Flanders by his arms and into a big double trailer at the centre point of their encampment. They stripped his dirty clothes from this filthy body and strapped him to a metal bench. Iolanda came in to watch. They looked into Floyd's eyes, and they inspected the bruises and marks covering his body. Most had been made by them, some were fresh. They made diagrams and sketched the damage. Then they turned their attention back to Flanders head.

"I am going to drill. Same place as before. Get the stuff ready. This is going to be interesting." Other people crowded around the metal bench to watch. "This might kill him. Say now if you have a problem." In silence he brushed some hair off Flanders face and found a small round scar on his hair line. Someone handed him an old hand drill. He pressed it to Flanders head and started the slow process of making a hole in his head.

……….

Floyd knew where he was. He was back in the centre van. He recognised the smells. He recognised those voices. He should never have called these people for help. What had he been thinking? He would have been better calling Aaron Hotchner than these twisted people. He tried to talk and to move and to let them know he was actually awake, but something was stopping him. He could feel his clothes being cut off him, and he felt the familiar straps going around his ankles and wrists and could hear the murmuring of voices in the back ground. A hand brushed his face and moved back some of his hair, and a finger rested on an old scar.

His mind was screaming the word 'no' over and over; he knew exactly what they were going to do.

He felt the pressure of something cold and sharp on his scalp and the twisting tearing ripping pain and it sliced through this flesh and began to eat into the bone underneath. The voices around him started up again. They were watching the flow of blood and liquid oozing from the hole in his head. "Drainage" he heard someone say. "Brain damage." He heard someone else say. "Let's hope he dies." Someone else muttered. He felt some of the straps being undone and he was rolled over onto his side then re-strapped him again so he wouldn't be able to roll back over.

"We can leave him for a while now. See what happens. Lonzo, stay here. Call if he wakes up, but I don't think he will."

………….

_Spence?_

Floyd!

_Are you OK?_

Broken leg. Where are you?

_I need you to come to me._

I can't move. Come to me.

_Spence, I want you here. Tell Iolanda to bring you to me._

Let me try to get them to move me.

_Yu._

Floyd?

A huge empty silence again. Reid took a deep breath. "Hey someone – anyone out there?" He called out. "Hey Iolanda!" He carried on calling until finally someone came in to see what all the yelling was about. It was Iolanda.

"I need you to take me to Floyd." An order.

"That's not possible. You need to stay here." He started to walk away gain.

"You misunderstand me Iolanda. It wasn't a request. You will take me to Flanders. Now." Iolanda turned around to look at Spencer.

"How are the voices boy?" a small smile on his face.

"Just take me to him. I need to be there." Iolanda came back to the bench.

"What is the attraction? He is a monster. He is filth. Why do you stay with him? What is the power he has over you?"

"I don't need to go into my personal life with you."

"But you worked for the FBI, you have a brilliant brain when it's working properly. What did you throw all of that away for? Why is he with you? Why are you with him?

"I'm not with him. I need to be." His hands were starting to twist and his voice was rising too high and manic.

Iolanda nodded. "OK – will take you to him, but you wont like what you see. Don't get too alarmed it's nothing we haven't had to do before. It's just to relieve the pressure on the brain. He has head trauma." He put his arms around Spencer so he didn't have to put pressure on the foot they still hadn't fixed. "Take it slowly or you are going to be laying in the dirt again."

The walk across the camp was painful and slow, and when they finally reached the centre trailer it was obvious they wouldn't be able to get up the steps just the two of them. Iolanda called someone over. "Stella help me get him up here will you, then you can sort his ankle out for him."

She walked over looking at Reid curiously. "Floyd is in there. Get someone else to help." She ruffled Reid's hair "Shame about you, I bet you used to be cute."

"Stella – some help."

Together they half carried Reid into the huge double trailer. This place was again like the one he had just left, but bigger. Only one bench in the middle, which had Floyd strapped to it. They had stripped him down and covered him with a white sheet, but still his face seemed to have less colour. He was strapped on his side. He looked dead and the metal tube he had stuck in his skull didn't help. He tried to move forwards to him, but was pushed down into a wheel chair.

"OK you are here." Iolanda said.

Reid just sat with his mouth open looking at the macabre scene. "What the hell have you done to him!?"

"Lessening the build up of pressure on the brain by draining." Dr Iolanda pushed the chair towards Flanders.

"That's not how you do that! Take that thing out of his head!" His voice had taken on a wild pitch of horror and panic.

"It's fine. He's had it done before. When the pressure goes and the – erm – blood stops we can remove it and he will wake up."

"You are insane! That will kill him." His shaking hands reached out for the tube.

"Remove that and yes he will die, Spencer. It might not look like it but we know what we are doing and your foot is going a funny colour so I need to get Stella to fix that up for you." He pulled Spencer back again and put a brake on the back of the chair. "Sit for a while and watch this creature's blood drain, and be thankful he likes you. You don't want to get on the wrong side of that man.

They came to fix Reid's ankle. He wasn't treated in the manner he would have had he gone to hospital. This was a coven of insane people. They dragged him from the chair and forced his jaw open. They poured unknown bitter liquids down his throat – they stuck needles in his arms and leg and some drew out blood and some stuck chemicals into his muscles, and yet more straight into his blood. Then he could feel nothing, as they cut and sliced and chipped and drilled at Spencer and all he could hear was the drip drip drip of something sliding out of the tube stuck in Floyd's head.

……………


	22. Chapter 22 Brand

Brand

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Spencer was floating. He thought what Hankel had done to him hurt. It was a kiss compared to what these inbred maniacs were doing. He tried to tell them to stop. Again thoughts went to Frank and what he had done. He thought he could understand what had happened during that case. He thought he could imagine the pain and fear, but in actuality he had no idea. True he couldn't feel the actual pain of the knife slicing his skin, or of them chopping and pulling at the bones in his foot, but he could feel the hands, very likely he thought to himself the way Elle had felt fingers in her wound. He made a mental note to contact Elle and some point and compare experiences. Yes he could feel the fingers pulling at the inside of his foot and ankle and all he could see was the tube sticking out of Floyd's head and in his mind he could hear the 'drip splat drip' of the ooze trickling from the end.

The drilling and pulling and cutting seemed to go on forever, and for once, when he really needed it to, his mind wouldn't switch off. He moved his eyes away from the thing in Floyd's head and looked into his eyes, and saw his eyes looking back. He had that thing stuck in his brain and was awake? Was this good? Did the others know? Should he try to tell them? Should that thing still be in there if he was awake? He kept his eyes locked on Floyd's.

Then he could feel hands leaving him, and he could see legs stepping over him and bodies getting in his line of sight so he lost contact with those eyes.

Reid lay and tried to think. Think of anything: Production order: The Cage Stardate unknown: Where No Man Has Gone Before Stardate one three one two point four, The Corbonite Manoeuvre Stardate one five one two point two………….He reached Errand of Mercy Stardate three one nine eight point four when they moved out of the way again.

Floyd was laying on his back again with a tube down his throat and they were pouring liquids down it slowly. As the horror of what these people were doing to Floyd was sinking in they turned and looked at Spencer laying on his side on the floor watching them.

"Want some boy?" And they all grinned in unison. "You look like you could do with some nourishment."

He watched as they pulled the tube out of Floyd's mouth. It made a sick sucking popping sound.

They looked at their prize on the floor and started to walk towards him. They stood and watched as his eyes started to roll around strangely and he made a funny noise from deep down inside him and started fitting.

"Don't worry about that. Tube him up once he stops." They stood and watched.

………………….

Flanders lay watching Spencer. They looked at each other, each feeling the pain for the other. He was going to skin Stella for this. He watched them hack at Spencer' foot and ankle. They were barbarians. They knew he was awake. He watched them drill into the bone and pull the broken fragments back together again and staple and fix it back. The stitching was clumsy; he would have taken more care. That will scar. They walked back over to him and looked at the tube they had stuck in his head. He could feel them pulling it out and wiping the hole they had made in his head with some concoction they had made and he felt the tube go down and the feeding start. They would get bored soon and move on to someone else, and he will start to feel better, he hoped and maybe even move! Just leave Spence alone. He hadn't done anything.

………………

Spencer was aware that he had seized again. He had that old familiar feeling in his stomach and his muscles, and once again the tongue munching. His eyes hurt and he just wanted to curl up and sleep forever, but the new pain in his leg wasn't going to let him do that. The people in the trailer were talking amongst each other, so Reid took the chance to look over to Floyd, who was again looking right back at him. The Clan members then turned Reid over onto his front and pulled his shirt up and ran fingers over his skin. He tried to get eye contact back with Floyd again but they stood once again in the way.

"He's been done once, but it's healed nicely." Someone commented. "We can brand, and then do the skin. He's got good skin."

"Heat up the irons." Another voice.

_Floyd stop them!_

He felt them draw a mark on his shoulder blade, and still he couldn't move and now the pain had returned he was aware that it felt like they had hacked his foot off. He could hear their jovial voices. They were having fun. They were going to brand him and have fun. They pulled his left arm out and twisted it around so they could see the marks he had made.

"You like pain boy? You like marking your skin?" He could feel the heat off the irons coming closer to his skin and the deep screaming pain of red hot metal on skin. Then the greyness took over and there was nothing.

Floyd could smell the burning flesh. A smell he knew well from his own work. Not one he wanted associated with Spencer. He saw them drag Spencer out of the trailer by his arms and finally he managed to make a noise.

"YOU BASTARDS!"

"Are you beginning to feel better Floyd?" Iolanda was standing at the foot of the medical table Floyd was laying on.

"Why did you let them do that?" A trickle of blood was running out of the hole in his head.

"They need to be kept entertained and you weren't very entertaining today Floyd. There is also the matter of payback. You hurt them. They hurt you. It's the game. All part of the game."

"Iolanda, you know he's sick." He was getting movement back in his arms now.

"Makes it more fun Floyd."

Iolanda left the trailer.

………………..

He was dimly aware of being dragged, having water poured over his back and being left in the dirt. He lay still. He didn't want to antagonise these people. He needed to stay calm. He needed to think. He felt the dust kick up and hit his face as someone knelt in the dust beside him. He opened his eyes a crack and saw Iolanda.

"Thought you would want to know, he's awake and talking. All's good." He looked into Reid's eyes. "You are looking better than when we last met. I thought you were gone for good. The Geoden is working well for you."

A small nod "Thank you."

"Oh I am not telling you so you feel better about things Spence dear. Things will get worse now he can react. Why did you come here? Why did he ask for our help?"

Spencer just looked back at Iolanda.

"He comes here and takes our children in the night, and then expects us to help him? He knew what we would do. He must have known we would be over you like a rash. Something special. A nice new bit of meat for us to play with and an unstable bit of meat too. What was his plan Spencer?" Iolanda started to drip water on Reid's shoulder. "They did good there. Very experienced branders though. As is Floyd. He was one of the best. But he got too much. That's why we asked him to leave. We can't have him taking our own for his pleasure. He is a dangerous man Spencer."

"I asked to meet his family. That is why we came."

Iolanda just stood up and laughed. "You wanted this? That is priceless Spencer! You deserve that brand. FBI scum that you are." Spencer saw Louis Iolanda 's feet leave the ground and heard the 'umph' sound of the air leaving him as he hit the ground.

"You ok Spence?" Reid looked up to see a half dressed Floyd with blood still oozing from a hole in his head.

"Floyd!" Spencer tried to get up.

"No stay still, let me sort your back out."

Flanders moved slowly and was swaying and shaking. "They did a good job." He muttered.

"So I've been told. What is it?"

"Ah not important Spence." And he poured more water on the burning skin. "I will care for it. This is why I hate you marking your arms, so unprofessional. I would have done a better job of it."

"Floyd, they have branded me. What is it?"

"Doesn't matter." More cooling water, "How's the foot?"

"The pain has just all become one thing, I can't tell one from the other now."

"It will fade. Have a smoke. It will help."

"Floyd, what have they burned into my back?" He took the smoke and inhaled.

"FILTH"

……………………


	23. Chapter 23 Talk

Talk

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Aaron awoke in a cold sweat of fear. The same nightmare over and over. He got up slowly and went to the bathroom and stood looking in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked at the face looking back at him. It was not the face it used to be. This one was full of pain and hate.

He reached into the bathroom cabinet and took out a small bottle. Just something to help him sleep; he needed to be able to sleep without the fear of the nightmares. He thought he had control over these. He had after all been having them for years, and he was prepared for them, but these were different. These involved people he loved and people he would kill if he saw again.

He dry swallowed a couple of pills and with slightly shaking hands returned the bottle to the cabinet. He turned on a tap and let the water run through the pipes until the water was ice cold, and he splashed it over his face. Aaron walked back to the bedroom. Haley was in the bed. She slept in the same bed as him, but that was about all. He couldn't stand the feeling of her hands on him anymore. It just shot memories of horror back into his mind.

Aaron walked quickly and silently from the bedroom and went down to the family. He sat there until Haley came down in the morning with Jack.

"Aaron." Her voice was soft. She was trying to understand. She had seen the photos too. "You need to talk to someone about this. You can't carry on pretending it didn't happen." She ran her fingers through his hair and felt him stiffen under the contact. Had she lost him? Would he ever come back to her?

"I am not pretending it didn't happen. I know full well what happened and I don't see how talking to psyc will help. Haley it's not talking about it I need to do. It's forgetting it.

She sat down next to him as Jack ran off to play with his toys before breakfast. He tried not to, but he felt himself finch away from her.

"Please Aaron. We can't go on like this, I don't want to share my husband with that maniac. Talk it through with someone. You have contacts so use them."

……………

This was why Aaron was sitting in the doctors office. He was going to talk to someone. Someone he wasn't close to. Someone who was just a forgettable face. Someone he would be forgettable to. A stranger.

"So Mr Hotchner, you said on the phone something had happened to you and you want to talk it out with someone. Can you tell me what happened?"

Hotch shook his head. "I can do better than that, I can show you." He pulled his case onto the desk and flipped the clips open and pulled out an vanilla folder. With a deep sigh, he handed the folder over to the doctor.

The doctor looked through the stack of pictures. He showed no clue of what he was thinking, but Hotch had a good idea. The same he would think if saw pictures like this of someone 'how could an FBI agent could let this be done?' The doctor put the pictures back in the folder and looked up at Aaron.

"Why do you have these?"

"I wanted to show you what he did."

"Destroy them. I have a shredder. Do it now. This won't help you. Looking a this wont help, Mr Hotchner, you need to talk to me about how you feel about it. Have you for example been to the hospital for a check up?"

A look of horror passed Aaron's face. "I had a check up for my injuries. Not specifically for that."

"I mean your bloods. You need to make sure no disease; STDs have been passed on. It is an important step to recovery."

…………….

Morgan was in hospital still. He had been lucky as they said. Whoever had cut him knew exactly what he was doing, and had done it many times before. He had an infection and so wouldn't be permitted home until the fever had gone. Derek lay in his bed and cursed the man out. He lay in a sweat as his leg and toe throbbed and he looked at the ceiling not able to think of the best way to kill the man who had done this. He tried to think back to before all this crap had started, but it was going back so far and too much had happened.

He knew Hotch was going through something too. He had seen the pictures, and how Aaron managed to get into work every day and face people he didn't know. He wanted to talk to Hotch about it. Let him know he can. He had been there – had experience of what it was like, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say anything to the man who was walking a tightrope between the calm exterior and the madness and pain boiling just below the surface.

They came and changed his dressings and removed the drains and gave him fruit juice and water to drink and he lay and looked at the ceiling. The only let up from the eternal boredom would be the regular visits from his favourite tech. Garcia would flood the room with colour and heady flowery smells, and feed him ice-cream on a tiny spoon and they would flirt outrageously with each other knowing it would never go any further. She would massage his feet for him, as she had Reid's all that long time ago and she would look sad.

"Hey Pen, what's wrong." She had one small tear running down her face.

"Nothing, I was just thinking."

"Talk to me baby-girl, what's eating that pretty heart of mine?"

"I was thinking back to when I would visit Reid, you know, in hospital, and massage his feet, and I thought then he was going to get better."

"We all did. He might still. I don't understand everything that's happened Pen, but he is a very sick man. He will come round, he will realise and we will be here for him." He hoped.

"Why do this to you? He is one sick bunny." Her voice low and sad.

"I am still alive and so is Hotch. He didn't kill us and he could have done. He just hurt us."

"I feel like going out there, wherever, and dragging Reid back here and showing him what's happened. I am so cross with him Derek."

She walked back to the side of Morgan's bed. "Don't be cross with Reid, Pen, it's not his fault. He is sick. If you showed him, I doubt he would understand."

……………

Floyd looked closely at the mark on Reid's back. It made him tingle inside. 'filth' The brand was almost square about 4" and was double underlined. Good quality, well done. He probably would have burned deeper if it had been him, but they obviously wanted it to heal so they could cut it out and use it. It would scar though, whatever.

"It could have been worse Spence." He commented dripping the cold water over it. He saw a drop of blood join it and for a second his head span then another drop, then a gentle trickle.

"How could this be worse? They drilled a hole in your head, and branded me. How can it be worse?" Reid lifted himself up on his elbows and pulled him self around so he was sitting. "Floyd? What's wrong?"

Floyd was kneeling in the dust with his head slightly to one side staring off to somewhere far away. The wound in his head was seeping, and he was swaying.

Spencer put a hand on his shoulder. "Floyd?" he hissed at him. Nothing, so he shook him gently. "FLOYD!" still at a quiet hiss but more demanding but he just seemed to sway a bit more. A harder shake this time and Floyd turned to look at Spencer. There was blood pouring from the wound in his head and from his nose. His hand moved towards Spencer as he tipped sideways into the dirt and lay with his hand twitching.

They came rushing forwards to their prize like animals. Stella and Iolanda with a new black eye the first to arrive at the scene, hands out ready to grab.

"Don't you touch him!" Spencer shouted at them as he pulled closer the Floyd. "You barbarians, you've had your fun. Now leave us."

"He will die." Stella informed him "And then what will you do boy?"

"Back off." Reid hissed at them, his own pain now almost gone as his brain started to process this new danger.

Iolanda stepped forwards, "They will need to drain him again Spencer, and you will need your medication. Let them take him or he will die and you will end up a skin on Stella's wall – after she has fully decorated your skin that is. He should never have been walking around in the first place."

Hands grabbed Floyd's feet and they turned him over so he was on his back, and began to drag him.

"Let go of him!" Reid made a desperate grab as Floyd slowly slid away and the pain in his leg found its way back to Reid's brain and pulled the grey over his eyes.

Flanders head bounced over the stones and up the steps to the central trailer. They were laughing. Stella picked up a small sharp knife.

"Let's play."

…………………


	24. Chapter 24 Trophy

Trophy

**A/N again excuse typos and errors…have to post this now.**

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Reid awoke again when the bucket of water was thrown over him. He was still laying in the sand and dust but he had been turned so he was laying on his front. He squinted his eyes and saw some pairs of sandals. It took him a few seconds to realise where he was and what was going on. One of the people standing next to him crouched down and look closer. He looked to be about sixteen; long straggly hair and the dark eyes of the Clan. He looked like a much younger version of Floyd.

"Ya awake then. Was told to wet your back." He boy's hands pushed Reid's floppy hair out of his face. "Want to see what Flanders found so interesting. What he made us drag ourselves half way across the country for. Who he did that stuff for. You don't look like much. Iolanda said you are sick in the head."

A blue capsule fall on the ground next to Reid. "Said to make sure you take this." A girl's voice.

"Who – who did?" A quiet voice.

"Iolanda, he's in charge of things like that. He likes you. I'd be careful."

"I see, why do I need to be careful if he likes me?"

Sniggering, and a new voice. "He's more possessive than Floyd, boy – you gotta be careful of that Iolanda. Especially after what Floyd did to him recently."

"Yep." The girl again, "He's likely to take it out on you once Floyd is gone."

"What – what did Floyd do to him. Gone – gone where?" Reid was trying to turn over again so he wasn't just laying in the dirt.

"Typical – he does all that shit and doesn't even bother to tell you." The first boy's voice again.

"What do you mean by gone?"

"They will get rid of him again. They chucked him out once. He's too unstable. You shouldn't have come here." The girl this time.

"They are preparing him now. Stella is getting really excited by it but you know some people won't be warned will they?" The second boy.

Reid tried to stand up but even if he wasn't in such pain it would have been impossible. "Help me go to him." They stood and looked at him.

"You want to watch? Gross." The girl stood with a hand over her grin.

"Take me to him – now – what the hell are they doing? No wait – did they bring the bike back with us?

The first boy nodded. "Then take me to the bike."

…………..

Floyd was laying on his front. They had made sure he was awake again. They wanted him awake for this. They made sure he was laying so he drained nicely. They didn't want him dead, not yet. Stella had drawn marks on Floyds back. He had scars there already from other things, and now Stella carefully drew patterns on Floyds back curling and twisting around the marks he had already to disguise them. She took care; she had obviously done this many times before and had a very steady hand.

Stella carried on while some of the Clan watched until Floyd's entire back was covered in marks from her special pen. She then moved around so he could see her.

"You still awake? Ready for this? I have wanted to do this for so long! The joy I got from burning your boy is nothing compared with what I am going to do to you. This is payback Floyd Flanders. You were born a freak, you were never wanted but you just keep coming back for more don't you. So this is for Iolanda's children you strung up in the desert and for Mona's husband who you skinned and left for the dogs. This is for Katty and Luca who you took and tore apart and made into your sick dolls. This is for the Clan members you have devoured Flanders." He stared back at her.

She picked up her small knife and started cutting. Sometimes she just sliced, other times she cut and removed bits of skin then poured powder on the cuts. Occasionally she would walk around and check that Floyd was still awake. His face expressionless and empty fighting the screams from inside.

"Your skin will look good on my wall Floyd. What a wonderful trophy! Floyd Flanders bastard skin on my wall."

She returned to her work. Her assistant, a middle aged man called Lenny poured liquids over the bleeding and weeping cuts beginning to cover Floyd's back in intricate swirls and twists.

………….

The bike had been taken to an old shed. The kids half dragged Reid in and he leaned on the back of the bike. He opened one of the panniers. They stood and watched as he pulled out a bottle of water and a bar of soap. Spencer was glad of the youth and the inexperience they had.

"I need to wash. Do you mind?" They stood and looked at him "Just turn your backs please. I need to wash." They shrugged and turned around.

Reid made a big deal of stripping off his now tattered shirt and moaning in pain as he splashed water and watched what the kids were doing and slid his hand back into the pannier and started to talk to the kids. He pulled out the gun which had once belonged to Aaron and pushed it behind his belt at the back of his cords. He then pulled out an old jacket. "I want to wear this." And he threw it over to the kids who were now turning back around. One of them picked it up and checked the pockets as he thought they would, then threw it back to him

"Fine." He said wear it.

Reid slipped the jacket over and pulled it down hard at the back – hopefully they wont know. He slung his arm around a shoulder and he hopped and limped in pain he thought you should only have if you were dead. Tears of agony running down his face, but he had to see what they were doing to Floyd. They half dragged him up the steps and threw him through the door back onto the floor where he had been laying when they branded his back. He looked up at the table Floyd was on and just opened his eyes in horror.

"What you bring him here for?" Stella snapped.

"He wanted to see his boyfriend get sliced."

Reid's tore his eyes away from what Stella was doing and looked at Floyd's face. His eyes were open and looking right back at him. He was awake? There were track marks from dried tears of pain. His back looked like a butcher's shop.

"What – what are you d d d doing!" His voice came out in a horrified yelp.

Stella turned to her assistant Lenny. "May as well show him an example seeing as we are going to do him too. Only I think I will stick with the branding irons for that little whelp."

Lenny grabbed some stuff from a cupboard, but Reid wasn't really watching, his eyes were fixed on the mess they had made of Flanders.

"Here's the idea kid" Lenny was saying. "We pattern up the flesh. Depending on where the best section is. Floyd here was scarred already but we dealt with that ok. Well we pattern it – then let it heal. In Floyds case here it cutting and slicing designs, in your case it will be brands and burns. We let it heal completely, and then we remove it. We unwrap. We do have to take it right down to the bone and muscle though and obviously it will kill you, but your skin will look good."

Lenny unrolled a length of patterned leather. It might have been beautiful if Spencer didn't know it was human skin.

Stella smiled over at Reid. "May as well get him ready there – I will do him on the floor again. Someone start the furnace. As Stella stepped towards him he pulled the gun.

…………….

Gideon was sitting in his hotel room watching Animal Planet. It was a re-run but that was ok – he was still enjoying it. Something tonight was distracting him for his free from pain life today, actually the last few days something had been bothering him. He glanced over to his laptop and wondered if he needed to check his email. Jason turned off the television and walked over to the small desk. He sat on the small chair and woke up the computer. He got rid of the game of solitaire he had been mindlessly playing and checked email. Nothing. Why would there be? Something was still nagging at him though. He clicked open his browser and typed in some random words but came up with nothing interesting.

He typed in the names of some rare birds, but he had seen these sights a million times before. Something was bothering him though, and he couldn't figure what it was. He entered the names of some of the unsubs the team had stopped, and felt good about what he read, but still something. He started entering names of known criminals to see if there was anything he had missed, which he hadn't. Somewhere along the way he typed in the name Floyd Flanders, and something happened he wasn't expecting. Along with makers of furniture and other Flanders was a blog.

Jason clicked the link and looked. Staring back at him was a picture of Flanders and a list of blog entries and photos. He looked firstly at the pictures. There weren't a huge amount, but there were also pictures of Spencer. Gideon's stomach did a nasty turn. He hadn't expected this. He clicked on the blog entries. They were all messages to Spencer. The most recent had the subject The Clan, and was saying about going to visit his family in Vegas? Close to where Spencer's mum lived.

Gideon sat and thought for a while, then picked up his phone and speed dialled a number he hadn't used in a while.

"Hotchner." His voice sounded cold and distant. A mile of worries on the man's shoulders.

"Aaron – I think I know where he is."

……………

The vans of SWAT speed down the road. Gideon had been in the area anyway and decided to join the visit to the great Clan whether they liked it or not. Hotch was got a flight and was there. Morgan was still on sick leave as was JJ but Prentiss was able to join them. They sat in a car together and looked down the road in front of them. In the distance there were the caravans and trailers Floyd had been raised in. Gideon just hoped they were still here. He had checked that morning and no new blogs had been posted which didn't mean much really, but let them know that they were not definitely somewhere else.

They arrived at the encampment in a cloud of dust and disembarked in their vests just as the gun fire started from a trailer in the middle of the camp. They heard three gunshots and a scream of pain, which the three of them instantly recognised.

…………

Reid shot Stella in the chest; he turned the gun towards Lenny and caught him with his second shot in the top of the leg. Reid was dragging himself towards Floyd as he fired wildly at the group of people moving in. This was it. He was going to die here in some mad artist butchers trailer with the word filth stamped on his back. He felt the gun being wrenched from his hands and he felt someone start to drag him away from Floyd.

……………

Then all hell broke loose.

Reid felt something hit his the back of his head. He tried to feel what it was but everything was going fuzzy and out of focus. Then as he lay unmoving on the floor he listened to the gunfire and watched the black boots run past him and back again. He heard familiar voices and someone shouting 'clear!'. He heard gasps of horror and he heard.

"It's OK son, I've got you."

…………………….


	25. Chapter 25 Shot

Shot

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

_Perhaps I know why it is a man alone who laughs: He alone suffers so deeply that he to invent laughter – Friedrich Nietzsche_

Gideon crouched on the floor next to Spencer. What had he been thinking of abandoning him like this? He should have been watching and protecting this person he had dragged into the world of horror he himself had finally run from. He looked into Spencer's eyes which reflected back at him the horrors of the room he was held in. Jason carefully put a hand on Reid's shoulder. He was expecting Reid to flinch back from the contact, but he seemed to relax and this worried Jason even more. It felt like he was giving up.

"Spencer stay with me. Stay awake, the EMT's are on their way." Was that a slight movement under his hand? He was shaking – in shock.

Hotch walked over to where Flanders was laying in a pool of his own blood. He sat on his heels next to Flanders and looked into his eyes. Floyd looked back at him and blinked. Aaron had expected him to be dead or at least unconscious and stood up quickly looking down at the man who had ripped the team and his life apart so easily.

"EMT's over here." He called out. "Quickly, I need this man kept alive."

…………….

Reid felt like he was going to die. Everything slowed down, voices were muffled and sleepy. He could hear Gideon, but that must be wrong. Gideon can't be here. He tried to keep his eyes focused on Floyd, but too much was happening. Too many people suddenly all over the place. He could see blurry faces and what looked to be Aaron but that was wrong too. He was hallucinating, he was dying. He could feel a hand touch him and he finally gave up. There was no more fight left. He had nothing else inside to fight with so he let himself slip this time. Just this once for a bit of peace. He could vaguely hear someone with a gentle voice talking to him but it was just a trick. Do what you want – I give up.

…………..

Floyd watched Spencer pull a gun. He watched in awed horror as Spencer shot Stella who slumped to the floor, then he watched the panicked look his face as he fired the gun at Lenny. Then he saw where the next bullet hit as they closed in on Spence. He watched them take the gun from his hands and pull him back away from him. He watched as they smacked Spencer on the back of the head with the gun, and he saw the fight leave. Like a ghost of a shadow departing his soul. His mind screamed out Spencer's name as he felt ooze and blood trickling from the fresh open wounds in his back.

………….

Gideon stayed at the hospital with Reid. He needed to be there when he woke up again. When he did he just stared at the ceiling and said nothing. The smell of a hospital again. Gideon wanted to get him out of there as soon as he could. Reid wouldn't heal properly here. There was a dressing on his back, but though Gideon had been told it was a burn, he hadn't been told what the burn was. For now he needed to accept Reid's privacy and not ask.

It had been about three days when Spencer finally turned his face to Gideon and said something. It was so quiet that Gideon nearly missed it. He got up from his chair and went to Spencer's side.

"I am sorry Spencer."

"I n n n need t t t to w w wash." He finally stuttered out. "Have to wash. I have to wash – I have to wash everyday."

"You need to stay where you are." Gideon put a hand over Spencer's but he snatched it away.

"No, you don't understand. I have to wash everyday, and I need my Geoden. I don't want the voices coming back Jason." His voice becoming clearer with a slight hard edge to it.

"OK, let me get some help and we will get you out of bed. You will be walking on crutches for a while." He started to walk away to call a nurse in.

"Jason, where is he? I need to see him."

Gideon turned back to look at Spencer's white face. "He can't hurt you anymore."

"Is he here? Jason I need to know.

……….

Flanders lay on his front in hospital. Hotch stood and watched as they changed the dressings on his back. Deep moans of agony from the man who had caused so much pain.

He sat and looked into Flanders eyes which locked on his. A sound only just above a whisper.

"Don't tell him." Hotch moved closer.

"Don't tell him what?" Aaron asked quietly.

"Where the third bullet went. Don't tell him – it will destroy him."

Hotch looked slightly puzzled. "The third bullet?"

"Agent Aaron Hotchner." Such a cold voice, an empty voice. "If he asks, don't tell him."

……….

Gideon rented an apartment so he could take Spencer somewhere out of the hospital environment and get him healed quicker. He would have to come back and have more foot surgery. For now what had been done had to heal. They had reset everything they could. The rest would have to wait. He was limping around on crutches in pain. In pain in his mind and his body. He needed to ask questions and do things, but he didn't feel he could talk to Jason about it. He didn't even know if Flanders was alive. He had tried calling with his mind but had got the creepy emptiness which kept pulling him down and making him feel so alone. Jason was making sure he took the medications he was meant to, and it seemed to be keeping him mostly sane. Today Jason noticed was not a good day.

"Spencer, if you need to talk about something." They had been sitting playing a game of chess, but Reid's mind had drifted off again and he had been staring at the board for fifteen minutes.

"I need you to take me to him."

"I can't." Gideon looked up at Spencer. "He's in hospital Reid. He is recovering and then he will have to answer for what he has done."

"For what he has done." Reid got up and pulled limped towards the bathroom "I am going to try to have wash. I stink."

Jason hadn't noticed a smell – in fact he had never known a man wash so much!

"I can help – if you need help just ask. I will be making coffee." He sat and watched Spencer walk down the short passage to the bathroom. Not the man he had once known. A whole new person; a cold person, someone with no passions, empty.

Reid slammed the bathroom door and went to the mirror over the basin. He turned on the hot tap and let it run. He stood and watched the mirror steam up, then wrote FILTH on it. He pulled open the cupboard and took out the razor he had seen earlier. He unbuttoned his shirt, slipped it off his arms and let it drop to the floor. Spencer removed the blade from the razor and put it carefully back in the cupboard, then stood looking at his foggy reflection with that word written across his face. Very carefully, in the handwriting he was so well known for he slowly wrote the word into his left arm. He took his time. It didn't hurt. Nothing really hurt anymore. This was almost as good as Dilaudid. Yes he would go as far to say that given the chance he would go there again. Anything to stop this hate.

He pulled the dressing off his back and turned to look at it in the mirror. It was healing well. The letters stood out red and angry but that would go now the blistering had stopped. They knew what they were doing. They chose an appropriate word. They knew just how he felt. He looked down at his arm again and almost smiled at it. When he looked up again Jason was standing looking at him.

…………………..

Aaron left the room and called forensics. He needed to know where the third bullet from his gun someone had fired had ended up. It wasn't Reid who was found with the gun, so why was Flanders bothered about who had been shot and what Reid knew?

Three people had been shot with the gun it turned out. Two fatalities and one leg injury. Stella Franks had died from a shot to her heart. She would have died instantly. Leonardo Franks been shot in the leg. He would be recovered enough to stand trial later. Ten year old Rosa Flanders had also died instantly; a bullet took her between the eyes.

He went back to the room with Floyd watching him. He stood and stared at him. "Reid fired those three shots?"

"Don't tell him. Don't tell him. It will destroy what little there is left of him and I want to do that. The son of a bitch filth will suffer for that."

………………

Finally after the silence Floyds mind linked with his. The force of it made Reid stumble and his vision blur.

_Filth_


	26. Chapter 26 Space

Space

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Reid pulled his shirt up off the floor and dragged it back on. His hands shaking too much to do the buttons back up again.

"I'm going out." He tried to push by Jason who put a hand out and took Reid by the right arm. This time he reacted the way Gideon had expected before and he flinched away from him. "Don't touch me!"

"Spencer, you need to stay here. You are bleeding. Let me sort that out for you. Please." He put a hand out again this time to take Reid's hand.

"I said don't touch me Jason. Leave me alone. I am going out." He won't be treated like a child. He was a man who had seen more in his life than most people will see in a decade of lifetimes. He will deal with this. He won't accept help from this man who treats him like a child.

…………

Gideon watched this broken person as he limped on his broken leg and foot and grabbed at his crutches. "Don't follow me Jason. I know you are trying to help but I need space. Just give me space."

"Take a cell phone." Jason offered over a phone.

"Stop it! I don't need a phone. I won't be calling anyone." He snatched his jacket off the hook in the hall and limped out of the door.

…………

Reid wasn't sure what had happened, but he knew he had seriously upset the one person he thought he needed to keep himself sane. The only person who seemed to understand.

He half hopped and half limped down the road until he reached a bar. It was nearly empty so it was easy to find a booth out of the way and order his drink in peace and quiet. He knew he shouldn't be drinking alcohol with the meds he was taking, but right now he really didn't care.

He downed the first glass quickly and ordered a double. There was some strange music playing in the background and the sound of a group of blokes playing pool and the chatter of friends as the bar slowly began to fill. He hoped no one would join him in the booth. Tonight he just wanted to be alone and try to work out what had gone wrong. Last thing he could remember he was trying to save Floyd's life, and now he was calling him filth.

This was because that is what he was.

He was filth.

He was beginning to lose his posture and was sliding forwards when he felt the arm go around his shoulder.

"Shouldn't be drinking you know." That strange accent. Iolanda and the squeeze around his shoulders got harder. "How's the back?"

Someone slid in the booth on the other side of him and put a hand on his thigh. "We have been asked to bring you in. They want to talk to you. What's left of us."

Iolanda spoke again. "You have caused us a lot of pain Spencer, firstly through Floyd and now through your other friends. You will now stand up as best you can and come with us."

"I'm not g g g going – I'm not going – w w with you. Why cant people just leave me alone? I just want to be left alone, and you have to interfere and make problems."

"You killed someone very important to him, and yes he is a murdering bastard and yes he killed my children, and yes he has done bad things to our family, but he is ours. You are not, and when an outsider comes in and kills a child then we get pissed. You must understand that."

"What?"

"Get up and come with us." Iolanda was pulling him from his seat whilst the other person was pushing.

"No – I am staying here. Go away." But he seemed to be sliding towards the edge of the bench at an alarming speed.

"She was ten." Iolanda hissed in his ear. "And you shot her between the eyes. Proud are you? Thought that clever?" He pulled Spencer to his feet before he fell off the edge. "And remember Floyd learned his trade from me. What he knows, I know, only I know it better."

"Get your hands off me!" a low whisper. "I am not going anywhere. Leave me to think!"

"Yes, you are right Spence. We will leave you to think about things. I will be contacting you and I won't be as – loving – as your freak pervert friend Floyd."

He was pushed back onto the bench.

"Filth." The two men left.

_Floyd?_

_Filth – get out of my head._

_Floyd!_

Nothing.

He sat back down. Not really sure if what happened did happen or if it was all in his mind. He was beginning to feel confused. He rubbed at his eyes and ordered some more drink.

He was so tired. He just wanted to sleep, but he knew when he slept it would be full of nightmares. His brain wouldn't slow down, wouldn't stop spinning. He rested his head on the coldness of the wooden table in front of him and closed his eyes trying to find just a bit of peace from the horrors.

…………

He awoke somewhere cold, somewhere damp, and somewhere smelly. Screaming – so much screaming going on in his head. People screaming – children screaming. The smells of decomposition and death, the smells of fire and oil mixed with smells of fresh blood and gun powder. He could see the shadows of people running past him but not looking. He looked up at them and saw the faces of people long dead.

A nightmare, it must be a nightmare – the sounds were becoming distorted and distant. The people becoming deeper shadows. Reid struggled to his feet. His crutches were gone. Obviously they were gone. Why would he have them in a dream? He won't need them in this nightmare.

He smelt of the filth he had been laying in. Fine that is fine. He was filth. He could show them. Slowly he removed his jacket and shirt, and then started to stumble his way down the dark side road with the other dead filth.

So this was a nightmare, or he was dead? Maybe he had died in the bar. This is why he could walk on a broken leg and smashed ankle.

_Are you suffering?_

The sudden voice screaming through his head made Reid put his hands up to his ears and yelp.

"Get out of my head!" he shouted. Some of the shadows stopped moving – some of them seemed to jump out of the way but they seemed to stop closing in on him. Reid stumbled forward again. He could hear the distant screaming of dead people 'You didn't get to me in time – why did you let me die – did you enjoy looking at my dead body your pervert freak – filth.' Spinning around in his brain. 'You let me burn – you let me die – you didn't try hard enough – you are sick.' And suddenly the lights were too bright and the noises too loud, he was in pain, and he was standing in the middle of the road being shouted at.

"Get out of the road!"

Suddenly his leg would no longer support him, and he could feel himself tipping forwards onto his hands and knees.

Wonderful.

Yes you are great.

_Murderer._

You killed a child.

_Scum_

Lower than filth.

_Filth_

Lower.

……………..

Gideon got the phone call he had been half expecting at three in the morning.

"We have a friend of yours down at the precinct. He is very drunk and very confused. Come and get him, or we can let him sober up in the cells, but his leg looks a bit iffy."

Jason could see immediately that this wasn't just drink. His eyes were somewhere else. His mind was somewhere else. He was shirtless and was sitting leaning forwards, looking at the cuts on his arms. Another officer spoke to Jason. "It's more than drink Mr. That guy is in serious trouble up there." Tapping his head. "He's been jabbering on to himself for ages."

Jason looked over to the police officer "How did you know to call me?"

Well there's the thing. We didn't. Someone phoned in. Told us they knew we had the bloke with the erm – burns – with us and gave us a number to call."

"I see, and did this person give a name?"

The officer looked in his note book." Yes sir a Mr Iolanda."

………………

All Reid could hear were the screams of the dead and dying. All he could see was the face of the dead child.


	27. Chapter 27 Sitter

Sitter

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Gideon stood and watched the now sleeping Reid. He wanted to go and talk to Flanders, but didn't want to leave Reid alone. Not only was he worried what Reid would do to himself, but also what Iolanda or the Clan might do.

He had no idea what had caused this break, or what Iolanda had done, Spencer had not been talking any sense to Jason at all.

So here he was watching Spencer when the door knocked gently. He went and collected his things and opened to the door to Hotch.

"He is still sleeping."

Aaron nodded and entered the apartment.

He stood in the hallway looking to the room where Spencer was sleeping. He heard the door close behind Gideon, so quickly flicked the lock and returned his gaze to the closed doorway behind which Reid was sleeping. Aaron could feel his hands shaking and suddenly he was standing with his hand on the door handle to Reid's room. He told himself that he needed to check up on him. Gideon had said he had cut at his arms. He needed to be sure he wasn't laying in that room dead. He needed to be sure Spencer wasn't laying in a puddle of blood. Slowly he turned the handle and pushed the door slowly open.

He loved to see Spencer sleeping. He missed that; watching him on the jet sleeping, all his problems gone for a while. He needed to see that again. That bit of peace.

Spencer was laying on his side, the covers had been pushed down to his hips. He had on pyjama bottoms, but was topless. The mark on his back was staring at Aaron accusingly. He stepped closer to see what the letters said. Until now he didn't know what it said, and now it made him feel sick to see what Spencer was going to have on his back into eternity.

He walked quietly to Spencer. He wanted to run his fingers over that mark and make it go away. He was sure it could be removed by a skilled surgeon.

"Aaron." A quiet voice almost unheard.

"Spencer, I am sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Hotch began to walk away.

"It's alright, I wasn't sleeping." And a deep sigh. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to cause a problem again. I just needed some space."

"Don't worry about it. You need to sleep. We can chat later." Another step away from Spencer.

"No – I don't want to sleep Aaron. I can't sleep. There are too many voices screaming at me." Still a low whisper.

"Can I – help?" His hands were shaking and his palms felt sweaty.

"Just keep me company Aaron. I need to feel safe."

"You are safe Spencer, I will be right outside if you need me." Another step away.

"I don't need a sitter Aaron. Please."

"Spencer." A deep sigh.

"Just lay and hold me."

…………………

Flanders lay on his front and looked over at Gideon. "I would say what a nice surprise, but I was expecting you."

"We need to talk." He pulled over a chair and sat down watching Floyd.

"About? I don't think I have anything to discuss with you." He was watching Gideon as closely as he was being watched.

"I don't like you Flanders, so I won't pretend I do. I have profiled you so many times, and come up with something different each time."

"I am not a sociopath."

"I know."

"I am capable of love."

"I know."

"I love Spence."

"You don't. What you have done is not love. It's an obsession."

"He loves me."

"He is sick and confused." Gideon stared at Floyd in the eyes.

"He is mine. He will come back to me when I call him." The arrogance was back in his voice.

"I won't allow you to do that."

"You won't be able to stop me. I take what I want, when want to I take it."

"And where does Iolanda come into this?"

"He doesn't."

"Then why is he getting involved?"

"He isn't." Slightly confused expression?

………………………

Hotch slipped off his jacket and removed his tie, laying them over the back of a chair and kicked off his shoes.

He lay on the bed behind Reid and touched him gently on his shoulder. "Are you sure about this?"

"Do I repulse you?" Aaron could feel Spencer's body tighten.

"Of course not." Pulling Spencer closer and feeling him relax a bit. "Never."

"I am filth."

"Look at me Spencer."

"I can't. You will - you will see it." Reid's voice was shaking.

"See what?"

"The - the d d d dirt." and he was sobbing.

………………..

"You need to bring what's left of your family under control Flanders. They seem to be taking over where you left off."

Floyd turned onto his side. Gideon watched the look of pain pass fleetingly over his face "What? What is Iolanda doing?"

"You don't know? You are not the man I thought you were Flanders. You are a shadow. It's a shame your greed led you to this."

"Greed had nothing to do with it."

Gideon watched as the man with half of the skin still missing off his back swung his legs over the side of the bed he had been laying in. Jason raised an eyebrow and stood. "Then what? How did this happen to you? How did Reid break his leg and what were you doing at your Clan?"

"I was looking after him Jason Gideon. I was protecting him. I was keeping him safe." Flanders was standing.

"It doesn't look like protection to me. Why did you take him to your family? What was the purpose?" Gideon took a step closer.

"He asked me to take him to them." He took a step closer to Gideon. "Some people learn slowly." He started to sway. "Some people need rules."

"Did you need rules? Are you a slow learner? I get the feeling you are." They were nearly nose to nose now.

"Where is he?" Gideon could feel his breath on his face.

"That wont intimidate me Flanders so back off." Gideon still used a calm voice.

"Where is Spencer?" Again a slightly confused look on his face.

"You mean you don't know?" Gideon smiled at him and turned and left the room leaving Flanders standing with his back dripping ooze onto the floor behind him.

………………….

Aaron held tighter onto Spencer's shoulder. "Just close your eyes Spencer, try to sleep. I am right here."

Spencer knew if he relaxed too much the screaming voices would come back. He would see all the people he had failed.

"Hotch – what do you do when your nightmares follow you when you are awake?" His voice was still just above a whisper.

Reid could feel Hotch's breath on the back of his neck and it made him tingle.

_Slut._

The sudden voice screaming through his head made him jerk and make sound in the back of his throat.

_You are with him._

_You forgot the rules._

"NO" Reid shouted out, and slid from the bed in a mad rush of panic.

"Reid? What's wrong?" Hotch sat up on the bed and watched Reid stumble across the room.

_No better than a dirty rent boy._

"You can't do this!"

_You have forgotten already? You need a new lesson in behaviour?_

Hotch stood and walked slowly towards Reid. "It's ok Reid, it's only me."

_He was in your bed._

"It's not like that!" Reid was shouting.

_I can smell him on your soul._

"Hotch, leave, please leave now. Get out."

_Get rid of him, or I will send Iolanda for him._

"Aaron!" Wild scared eyes. "please go this isn't what I want." Pushing his way by Aaron limping. "I need to – I need to to to WASH!"

Reid thought he was going to choke – he could feel the ghosts of hands wrapped around his throat and the feeling of drowning. He stumbled on his broken foot and fell to the floor crying out in pain.

Hotch put a hand out to help.

"Get your hands off me, you son of a bitch!" The look of horror on Reid's face was reflected in Aaron's. "I didn't say that!"

But it was too late.

Hotch had heard it.

_Well done Spence! He won't bother you again._

…………………..


	28. Chapter 28 Heat

Heat

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Reid had scrabbled his way to the bathroom, mostly on his hand and knees with Hotch standing helplessly watching. There was no point in trying to help him if he was going to freak out, so he stood and watched and was ready to help as soon as he asked for it. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called Gideon.

"You need to get back here, he is not happy my being here Jason. I am making it worse for him."

Reid pulled himself up at the basin and turned on the taps and let the water run hot and steamy. He stood and looked at the scabs on his arm where he had carved the word and picked up a nail brush and started to scrub at it. Hotch stood at the empty door way for minute then went quickly and put his tie and shoes back on then put his jacket on the back of a chair in the small lounge.

"I know this isn't right. I know things are wrong. I know. This is me now. I can't wash it off. It's what I am." A pause. "I can't think straight. I need to get away. I want my brain to stop spinning and give me a chance." Listening to something. "It's not like that. It's not that easy. It won't just wash off." Staring into the steamed up mirror, then rubbing his eyes with his fingers. "Give me time to think. You won't let me think." Looking back down at this now bleeding arm. "I can cut it out." His hands moved to the cupboard and he opened it slowly, but all razors had been removed. "I am trying to. Give me a chance." He slowly turned around to see Aaron watching him.

"Aaron! Help me to the kitchen. I feel like eating." His voice was too fast and too manic. A strange smile quickly shot over his face and was gone again.

"I'll get it for you, what do you fancy?" Hotch was watching Reid carefully.

"I don't need you to get it for me, I just need to get to the kitchen. If you don't want to help, then fine, don't bother." He started to hobble out of the bathroom being careful to avoid touching Hotch on the way out.

Aaron watched him use the walls to support himself as he made his way slowly to the kitchen. He was muttering to himself again. Hotch decided that he was going to recommend to Jason that Reid was taken into hospital again. He walked quickly when he heard shouting and the slamming of drawers and cupboards in the kitchen. When Aaron got to the doorway Reid spun to look at him.

"Why are there no knives?"

"This isn't my home Spencer, so I don't make decisions like that. Come back to the lounge, you need a dressing on your arm."

Reid flicked the switch on for the electric hob. "Don't come any closer Aaron. You will get me – in – so - much – TROUBLE!" suddenly shouting.

_Burn it Spencer._

_Get rid of it._

_Press it onto the heat. _

"No I don't want to." Reid spun and looked down at the glowing red hob.

"Reid come away from there." Hotch was taking small unthreatening steps forwards.

Aaron watched Reid hold on to the sides of the hob and lean his face suddenly down towards the glowing heat.

_Go on then filth._

_Press your pretty face onto it._

_Take away that thing they lust after._

_No one will want you again._

_You will be clean._

Reid could feel the heat from the hob on his face. It really wouldn't take long. It would be over very quickly. Suddenly he could feel hands on his shoulders pulling him back away.

"Reid what the hell!" Hotch shouting at him

_He's touching your again._

_He is going to spoil everything. _

There was a hammering on the door. Gideons's voice. "Aaron the door it locked."

"Get your hands off me!" Getting dragged away from the hob, but still holding onto the edge.

Hotch was shouting. "Reid no!" He was trying to pull Spencer down to the floor away from the heat.

Aaron was stronger than Reid, and his hand to hand more up to date, but he was still finding it a struggle to pull this squirming screaming person to the floor without actually hurting him. Spencer was spitting and trying to bite. He was pulled down to the floor onto his back and Hotch straddled him holding his hands down. This caused Reid to shout and squirm even more.

_He is touching you._

_Get him off you._

"G g g get off – get off me!"

"Spencer listen to me; I won't let you hurt yourself like that. Calm down and think." Reid was still writhing and trying wriggle out when the front door suddenly smashed inwards.

"HOTCH!" it was Gideon.

"Kitchen." Hotch called back. He jumped up off Reid quickly feeling a deep nagging guilt over all of this and turned off the hob. Reid just lay on the floor looking at the ceiling.

………………..

Hotch and Gideon talked long and hard into the night. Aaron told Jason what Flanders had done to him. How it was slowly – or not so slowly destroying his marriage. He spoke of Reid and the past and of what happened and nearly happened that day and Jason listened. Reid was virtually catatonic now and just laying on his bed looking at nothing, occasionally his eyes moving as though he was following someone or thing across the room. They talked about what needed to be done. Aaron still thought hospital was the best place for him to be. They would keep him safe. They had the resources to help him through his trauma, and he had no doubt he would come through it, but was afraid of what more damaged could be done between now and that time.

Jason was more of the opinion that Reid needed to be with people he trusted. He needed to be away from this place and somewhere he could relax and be happy. Gideon wanted to take Reid back to the Bookstore; somewhere he loved. Somewhere he could spend his time doing nothing if that is what he wanted or getting involved in the world of books if he needed. Jason was going to maybe talk to Spencer about selling art there too. Old prints and maps maybe.

Reid lay and watched them moving around him and talking about him. They talked about what happened when they died, how much it hurt, how it should have been him. They told him how dirty he was, they recalled what he had done and who with. They warned him: he can make you do things if you don't stay true to him. You will wish you were dead. You will be in hell. You are nothing. You killed a child. You killed his child. He won't forgive you. You may as well finish yourself now.

………….

Hotch left quietly still thinking Jason was wrong, that Reid needed more than a vacation in a bookshop. He needed people around him who could restrain him when he was trying to hurt himself. He needed his medication supervised. He needed expert professional help before he did something to someone, and then it would be too late.

He didn't go home. He found going home more and more difficult. Haley didn't understand. How could she understand?

He went to a small bar and drank away the lost feeling he had inside.

………….

Prentiss sat in another bar somewhere else chatting with JJ.

They talked about everything except Reid. Though both women knew that was why they were here. Prentiss had never felt she really understood Reid. He had annoyed her. She felt they made too many allowances for him, that someone with the obvious 'problems' he had shouldn't be in the FBI, she felt they had to carry him, and mother him. Yes he was clever, but you had clever people worked in other fields. She always thought he would have made a far better librarian. JJ missed Reid with an ache in her heart that she found incredibly painful. Yes she had feelings for the strange Dr Reid and they had been on a date, and Reid had made it quite clear that he felt for her nothing more than the love of a team mate, which was a shame as she would have taken it further, but she realised now that he would never have had eyes for her no matter what had happened.

"I miss him." JJ finally said. She was running her finger around the rim of her glass.

"We all do, for different reasons, but we all miss him JJ." Prentiss was looking at her fingernails.

"Emily, you never really got the chance to meet the Reid we all loved. Tobias took him from us. That is the Reid you know."

"I got to know him JJ, I just didn't bond with him the way the rest of the team did. There always seemed to be something 'wrong' about him."

"It was that something which I loved so much."

"Well I found it creepy."

And they continued to drink and talk about anything and everything except Reid.

……………………


	29. Chapter 29 Cleansing

Cleansing.

**A/N sorry again for any errors..had a very bad bad bad day, but needed to do this. Thank you all :c)**

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Gideon drove and Reid sat shotgun. They started out at first light, and now the sun was setting. Jason knew the part of Reid they needed to get back was still in there somewhere, but for now he was caring for a virtual invalid.

"We can stay at a hotel for the night. Are you ok with that?" Jason asked, but he wasn't expecting a reply. Reid hadn't protested about or commented on anything all day.

They shared a twin room, something they had done on many occasions in the past, but that had been the old Reid, the one who didn't seem to be afraid of the shadows he was watching constantly.

Jason put his things on one of the beds and put Reid's on the other. "You want to shower? I will order some food."

"You are ashamed of me." His big eyes watching Gideon pull things from his bag.

"It seems you have made up your mind already; no I am not ashamed of you. Why would I be?"

"I let you down." Reid started to walk to the bathroom.

"You should have been doing this for you, not me. You haven't let me down Spencer."

Reid turned at the bathroom door and looked back at Gideon. "I chose. I was given options and I chose."

"I know. We don't always take the easiest paths."

"They will be asking for an execution. They execute the mentally ill. They are too afraid of him not to."

Gideon nodded. "It is likely, I won't lie to you. Right now he is undergoing treatment. He will be evaluated. He knows what he is doing Reid."

"So did I." And he turned and walked into the bathroom.

Spencer did his routine of turning on the hot tap and letting it run so that the mirror steamed up, then he stood and looked into the steamy mirror. He slowly reached over and pressed his fingertips to the wet glass. "Where are you?" He looked down that the strappings and supports wrapped around his foot, then back up to the mirror again. "I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry. Please hear me."

He pulled off his shirt and inspected the damage on his arms. The right arm wasn't so bad – just a few cuts and burns and they were fading. His left arm was worse – much worse. He ran it under the scalding hot water and could almost feel the pain. He picked up a wash cloth and wiped his face and neck then just stood looking in the mirror again.

Gideon had been watching surreptitiously, but didn't interfere with Reid's odd routine. It was something he obviously felt he needed to do. All part of the sick rules which had been set for him. Eventually Jason would wean him off these obsessive things. For now he let him carry on. The water was very hot but would probably do more good than harm to his cut arm. He ordered a light supper, he knew Reid wasn't eating much right now and didn't want to make it look like he was bullying him into eating as well as everything else. Gideon had also noted that although Reid was insisting on washing more times than he normally maybe would, he was only washing his left arm, his face, and his neck.

They sat facing each other like the many times they had over a chess board, only tonight it was over a selection of cheese and crackers. Reid nibbled on a few bits, but as Jason predicted was not going to eat very much.

Reid sat back and watched the shadows walking around him and listened to them whispering in his ear and shouting obscenities. Jason made sure Reid had his meds, but he was wondering how effective they were being right now. Maybe they just had to start working again after the recent traumas.

It was still early when Spencer said he needed to sleep. Only Jason knew there would be little or no sleep. Reid just didn't seem to sleep. He lay down on his bed and looked at the ceiling. His hands laying strangely still by his side.

………………..

Flanders sat a in white room behind white table. He was chained by his ankles and wrists, and was in hospital pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt covering the dressing still on his back. Floyd wasn't wearing his happy face today. He was very pissed off in fact. He had enough of talking to people. He wanted to go and find Spencer and they wouldn't let him go. The person on the other side of the table was a middle aged man and he was watching Floyd closely. There was an armed guard standing at the door, and another on the other side of the locked door.

"Can we get on with this? I am tired." He sounded slightly drunk and slurred from all the pain killers they had been injecting into his back.

"So Flanders, do you consider yourself a victim?"

"Oh not this crap again. I am not a victim. Anything done to me as a child was done to teach me. Gideon was correct, I was a slow learner. I deserved what I got."

"You are happy with this?"

"I am me. Can I go now?"

"I would like to talk some more." The man was watching Flanders. Watching his hands…watching his eyes…watching the way he moved his mouth when he talked.

"So you can write your paper on serial killers? What do I get out of it? Where is my cookie Dr Lever?"

"Your cookie will be the knowledge that what you have done will educate and let others understand."

Flanders leaned on the table with his elbows. "What's to understand? They got in the way; I removed them. No guilt and no remorse."

"And what you repeatedly did to Dr Reid? What are your feelings there?"

"I love Dr Reid. I would never hurt him. You do not understand what was going on. I – was – helping – HIM!"

"You were torturing him."

"You –DON'T – UNDERSTAND!" then in a quieter voice. "He had to learn. He has learned. It was to help him. He is psychotic. He had stopped washing. He was behaving like a whore. I had to teach him!"

………….

Reid waited until four in the morning. He saw Jason drop his book as he fell into a deep sleep on his bed. Carefully so as not to awaken him he limped to the bathroom. Slowly closing and locking the bathroom door he then sat on the floor with his back to it. He sat and looked at the straps on his broken foot, and the cast on his leg. There wasn't much he could do about the caste but the strappings and bandages could come off. Slowly he began up pull the bindings off his foot. Underneath was a nasty broken foot covered in healing scar tissue. He looked at it and ran his fingers over the lumps where Stella had chopped at the bone and drilled into him.

He turned on the shower and stripped off and clambered into the shower cubical. It felt good. The water was too hot, it was the only way he could feel clean. He leaned forwards and let the water run over his back then stood with his head back letting the water run through his dirty hair.

_You should do this everyday._

"My foot, my leg it's not that easy."

_You are managing now._

"But Jason would have stopped me."

_Clean your arm. I can see it._

"I told you, it won't come off."

_Then you must find something, and cut it off._

"I will, just not tonight. I need to sleep."

When Gideon woke up he saw Reid was not on his bed and the bathroom door was shut. He stood up and walked to the door. He could hear the shower, but nothing else. He went to the phone and ordered coffee brought to the room. Then looked back at the bathroom door; how can he be showering with that thing on his leg? Jason quickly went to the door and knocked. "Spencer?" No answer…no sound except for the running water. "SPENCER" this time he shouted and hammered on the door. He tried the handle and found it locked. A shoulder to the door popped the small lock. The water was running in the shower. The mirror was broken, and Reid was sitting in an empty bath tub in a blue robe and bit of glass in his hand.

"Spencer." Gideon walked quickly to him.

"I am ok Jason. I haven't done anything. I got my caste wet." His hair had dried to a wild mess. "Actually I am feeling good. We are going home still aren't we?"

Jason nodded. "Have you cut yourself?" Looking worried but seeing no blood.

"Oh no no – I am ok really. I didn't do anything. I wanted to. The voices Jason they were telling me to, but I didn't." And he smiled. "I need a coffee."

_Well done._

_All clean._

_Cleansed_.


	30. Chapter 30 Samantha

Samantha

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Samantha Culver walked into the building with her over night bad. She had long red hair and a smile on her face. Today she was going to the sleep lab, and earn herself some cash to go towards her college bills.

Samantha Culver walked into the building with her bomb. She has lots of white teeth and green eyes. Today she was going to destroy this building and wipe herself off the face of the earth.

Samantha Culver walked into the building with a big holdall. She had her hair tied back in a pony tail and black nail varnish. She had voices in the front and back of her head telling her what to do and where to go.

She walked to reception and handed over an appointment card and was pointed in the direction she needed to go. Straight down to the elevators then to the fifth floor. She smiled and said thank you and walked holding her bag with her pyjamas and bomb to the big elevators at the end. She got in it alone and quickly pressed a button for the floor she needed. Floor 15 – Oncology. Once in the elevator she opened her bag and withdrew a carrier bag then zipped up the bag again and waited for the floor she needed.

The doors pinged open at floor 15. Samantha Culver walked to reception. "Oh I think I have the wrong floor. This place is so confusing." Looking around for a bin. She slipped the bag into the big bin then walked back to the elevator. It opened almost immediately and she smiled to see it was empty again. She pressed floor 10 – Neurological Medicine. Again she pulled another bag from her big holdall and left the elevator with a confused look on her face.

"Oh dear – I am looking for the sleep lab." She told he woman at the desk.

"Fifth floor dear." She said smiling.

"Have you got a bin I could put this in please?"

She slipped the bag carefully into the bin next to the elevator door and pressed the button. She was wearing her new light blue jeans and a pale pink shirt. She felt clean. Yes Samantha felt clean. Today she would show them how filthy she really was though. Yes today she would show them all.

Glancing at the watch she pressed a button. B – basement. It travelled down in fits and stops and people got in and out for car she was riding in. She looked at her watch again. Time time time…all down to the timing.

_Don't panic._

_Its' all going well._

A nervous smile that no one else saw. That's good. She was finally alone again and going down to her final destination. The doors pinged open into a dimly lit room. She walked over to a big bin and dropped the holdall into it, then pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and dialled the local police.

"Listen carefully to me. I am in the basement of that lovely new shopping mall on south street. I need you to arrange the release of Maurice VanDaal, or I will blow the place up. You have five minutes. I will call you back. I will need to talk to Maurice VanDaal." And she snapped the phone shut.

How delightful. She could see in her mind's eye them all rushing to the mall on the other side of the city. SWAT all ready, but far away. Good good.

She looked at her watch, and sat on the floor next to the bin. It was time.

Five, four, three, two, one……………………………

……………

Flanders was sitting in a white room. He was talking to someone again. They loved talking to him. They adored his mind, and how it worked. They admired him, and wanted to write about him. A strange immortality, but he had no time to chat now. He sat and smiled.

"Well it's been nice, but I think I will go now."

The explosions ripped through the floors where the bombs had been left. The explosion ripped through Samantha Culver and showed her filth on the inside.

The building rocked and shook as the alarms went off. The person Flanders had been talking to leapt to his feet with a yelp and the door swung open and left the room at a run.

"Evacuate!" Was being screamed along the corridors.

Flanders looked up and gestured the chains securing him to the floor. The guard ran over and unlocked them, and got his neck broken and his gun removed.

"Thank you Samantha Culver." He whispered as he stripped off the dead officer and put on his new hot disguise.

……………………

Gideon looked down at Reid sitting in the empty bath. Something was wrong.

"You want your coffee in there or are you getting out anytime soon." He was trying to keep the tone light

"Oh yes, I will be with you in a minute Jason." He eyes were flicking side to side.

Gideon knew Reid had done something, and needed to know what it was. "Get out of there Spencer. Let me see what you have done."

Another odd smile from Reid, "I told you. Nothing. The voices told me to. They nagged and nagged but I said no."

He was sitting very still with his arms down at his sides.

"Then can you get out of the tub please Spencer." Still trying to keep his voice calm.

"Stop treating me like I am a child Jason."

"You are acting like one. Get out of there and show me what you have done." He looked at Reid's pale face and back at the tub and the bathrobe. Jason moved in to grab Reid by the robe and pull him to his feet.

"I needed to be clean Jason. I needed to get rid of it. It's not perfect, but it will do." Reid slowly stood with the help of Jason. It made a strange squelching sound as he came away from what he had been sitting in – a puddle of congealed blood . Gideon tried not to react to what he was seeing and just carried on helping Reid from the tub. He got Reid out of the tub and then let him sit on the floor.

"Show me your arms."

He kept both arms down at his side but didn't resist when Gideon took his left hand and pushed the sleeve of his robe up. It was wrapped in a towel, there were blood spots showing through it. "Please Jason, I had to do it." Spencer mumbled as Gideon un-wrapped the towel. "Don't judge me on this Jason." The area of Reid's arm from wrist to elbow was a mess of blood. Jason sighed as he tried to make out what the damage was and what he had done. There seemed to be shards of glass still imbedded in the skin in places, but it was obvious he had carved something on his arm over where it had said filth, but the bleeding had stopped.

"Show me your back Spencer."

"My back is fine. I can't reach it. I tried." Spencer was looking down at his hands. "Can you help me clean this up Jason?"

They stood together next to the shower, Reid leaning on Jason and holding his arm out under the warm water. Jason could see now what Reid had done. The cuts open and raw, but Spencer was smiling at them. The F he had tried to change to a C the I to an L the L to an E the H to A and the final H to an N.

They returned to the bedroom in time for coffee, and Gideon started the slow process of pulling out the splinters in Spencer's arm. Reid seemed very calm today. Something had happened, and he wasn't sure yet what it was. As they sat and relaxed in a strange electric atmosphere, Reid turned to Jason.

"He's going to come for me." And he smiled.

"No Reid. He will be evaluated then locked up. You will never see him again." Jason drank back his coffee, happy that at last he could protect Reid without Flanders continually getting in the way.

"No, he will go somewhere, and then when he is ready he will call me to him." He was staring off into space with a smile on his face.

"Reid, listen, he can't go anywhere. He is being treated in hospital and then he will go to a high security mental hospital or prison."

"You are wrong. He has left the hospital."

Jason's cell bleeped. It was Aaron.

"Jason. We have a problem."

……………………….

Floyd looked back behind him. He had changed his clothes again, and tied back his hair. He had on jeans and jacket over a vest. It would do for now, but he had to get out of the way. The place was swarming with emergency vehicles and the dead and dying. They were not interested in one man standing alone watching then walking away, but if the BAU arrived he really needed to be gone.

Two days letter arrived at the BAU offices addressed to Agent Aaron Hotchner.

_Dear Aaron_

_We had fun, but it is time for me to move on. Stay away from Spencer. I will know and it will be he I punish if you don't._

_Forever in my thoughts, Floyd xox_

**A/N one more chapter I think…then I will move on if it is wanted….or just end it there. Let me know if you want a new story or not :c)**


	31. Chapter 31 Cellar

Cellar

**A/N Final chapter in this story. It will continue …… as the journey carries on.**

_The man visited by ecstasies and visions, who takes dreams for realities is an enthusiast; the man who supports his madness with murder is a fanatic. __- Voltaire_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

The bookstore had been closed for months. It had a strange smell to it. Abandoned and deserted. Gideon opened all windows he could while Spencer stood at the front in the cobbled street and looked up at the window with the red curtains. Their room – their sanctuary which Agent Lewis took from them. This had been the one place he had been truly happy and it would not be the same with Jason, but for now Jason was keeping an eye on him. The windows needed cleaning. The step had a build up of rubbish on it. Prince Reed's. Reid smiled. This had been theirs. Floyd had set this place up for him. That was love wasn't it?

He could hear his name being called and so he walked slowly down the ally way to the courtyard at the back of the ancient building. Their cases where stacked in the kitchen.

"I'll go and check things out." Spencer said quietly. "You know – the shop and things." Gideon watched Spencer's eyes flicking over to the cellar door. It was still sealed shut with padlocks and keys.

"Mind if I join you?" And Jason started to follow Spencer.

He could tell this was going to be suffocating. He was the sort of person who needed time alone, but Jason was not going to let that happen. Reid had his leg re-strapped and plastered and was walking with a crutch still. He picked up a duster off a shelf on the way through to the shop and wiped the edges of the shelves as he walked. "We need to take them all down and look. I expect some have been damaged. The leather – you know needs on some of them – on some of them – to be cared for – differently." His voice getting quieter and quieter. Gideon stood looking at the pained expression on Reid's face.

"I will take the things up; you can start on the books." Reid nodded.

When he came back down from his last trip upstairs he saw Spencer was standing in the hallway with his hands pressed against the cellar door. Jason stood next to him "Want to tell me what's down there." Spencer jumped at the voice and pulled himself back from his thoughts.

"Shadows, dreams, love and lust."

"Can you show me?"

Reid's mind flicked through a list of rules. Jason in the cellar was not there. "I don't have a key. I can't get down there. Floyd – Floyd – he has – he has the keys."

"Not a problem, I have bolt croppers in the car. Come with me and we'll get them." Jason guiding Reid's hands away from the small door.

……………..

The Eurotunnel takes you directly into central London. Walking distance from the river, and the London Eye, and the Aquarium. A great place for tourists. A great place for the homeless and displaced, you will find begging and prostitution, but he was looking for the parks. This is where he was going to stay for a while and keep as his home. He will behave. For a while. Once he has found what he needs. Good hunting ground. He walked out of the old station and down towards the arches. This was going to be good. A new place to hide, and somewhere he wasn't known. He looked down at the filth some still laying in sleeping bags with the drug addicts and sick people, filth and scum, he would come back and do some clearing another time. For now he needed to find the boys.

……………

Padlocks fell to the floor as Reid stood watching. "You know - we – we shouldn't really be doing this."

"It will be fine. Don't worry." Jason pulled open the door. He heard Reid's sharp intake of breath and saw his shaking hand reach out and pull a light cord. The steps led down to another door at the bottom. It too was locked with a padlock.

…………..

_You shouldn't be there!_

_What are you doing?_

…………

"Jason, I I can't – I cant go down there. He will be so……………." Stepping back from the open door.

"He can't hurt you."

…………

_Keep him out of there._

_That is for us Spence._

_What do you think you are doing?_

………...

"He can and will. Jason please don't go down there."

Jason grabbed Spencer by the hand. "What can be worse than what you have seen already? I will be with you. You need to do this Reid."

They stood by the bottom door and Jason handed the bolt croppers to Reid. "You should do this."

He jumped back as if burned by them. "No no – Jason please – it's –it's personal. I don't want you seeing it." He started backing away again.

"I will stay here then, but you need to go in there and clear your head of this. Get rid of it Spencer, whatever it is in there say goodbye to it. Then we can lock the doors again."

Spencer turned and went back up the stairs on his hands and knees. "I'm not ready Jason. Just leave it for now."

Gideon cooked dinner in the microwave. He had the forethought to disconnect the power to the oven and hob. Not much Spence could do to himself with a microwave. They ate in silence and Spencer noted how the plates were made of some unbreakable crockery. Amusing Jason. Very amusing. Like that will stop me.

There were piles of books on the floor where Spencer had started to clear up and some books he was moving one by one right to the back of the shop almost out of sight. They had soft pale leather. Spencer had removed them and carefully oiled the leather with a small bottle he put back in his pocket when he heard Jason's footsteps on the creaky floor.

"These books are special?" He asked.

"They are not for sale." And he turned so his back was to them. "They don't belong to me." He did a big smile at Jason.

………………….

He stood at the edge of the park looking around. It was dark. He needed to find the perfect mark. He needed to do this right. He needed to start over again.

The person he spotted looked perfect. He was walking slowly with his head down. Skinny – he liked them skinny….dark hair over his face and a long plait down his back. Dark jeans, leather jacket and boots. It was the effeminate cropped t-shirt that drew his eyes to him though and the twitchy hands.

He stepped out in front of him "Fancy something to smoke?"

The lad looked up at him – dead eyes looked at him. "Yes."

"Follow me." And the two of them walked off into the shadows.

………………..

He got up in the middle of the night and slunk down the stairs. He pulled open the door and picked up the bolt croppers. The lock opened easily.

He entered the room and closed the door behind him. He stood with his back pressed against the wall and took deep breaths. He could still smell the incense after all this time. He turned on a small side lamp and hobbled around the edges of the small room. The light caught things hanging on the walls. Reid ran his fingers slowly over them and smiled.

"Just saying goodbye." He turned and sat on a big pile of cushions on the floor then curled up and wept.

………………

The following morning Reid was up early and washing by the time Jason woke. The smell of fresh coffee was wafting up from the kitchen. As Gideon approached the bathroom door Spencer opened it and was standing in his cords and a short sleeved shirt and tie with a relaxed smile. Jason was surprised to see that he was showing the mess his arms were in, but said nothing.

As the two of them went downstairs he noted that the locks were back on the cellar door and written on the door in Reid's hand Private Do Not Enter

They sat and drank coffee…and Reid microwaved some eggs and made toast.

"I feel good Jason. Think I will take a walk." He smiled at Jason and got up to put his things in the sink.

"Good idea, I will get my coat."

This was a routine they kept for a while. Reid took the same route everyday, and when his caste was finally off they walked a bit further. They didn't talk much, but Reid seemed relaxed. He was greeted sometimes with "Good morning Dr Franks, how nice to see you looking so well."

Gideon expected Reid to correct them at first, but was time went by he never did.

Jason had some maps and prints delivered to the shop and was standing behind the counter looking at them. Spencer stood next to him looking over them with him then took a deep sigh.

"Jason, I am going for a walk while you look through those. I need to pick something up from the postoffice. A package has arrived. I think it's that book I ordered." Gideon looked up and saw a fresh faced happy Spencer. He was in his cords and long sleeved shirt and sweater vest as the weather was getting cooler. He had been sleeping with out nightmares and looked healthy and rested. Recently he had been posting letters to his mum again. The old Spencer was coming back to them at last. He still had a slight limp as the ankle hurt some mornings. He could tell today it was hurting Reid but he said nothing not wanting to remind him of what happened. "I won't be long."

………………

The strange man had gathered a bit of a following. He gave them powders to sniff up their dainty noses, and kept them close to him. He made sure they handed over any money they earned during their night times, and he made sure they were safe and swapped their safety for drugs and for his pleasure.

……………

Spencer walked down to the post office about half an hour walk away. He gave the number he had been left and they brought out a box with: Dr S Franks. Prince Reed's: typed on the front. He thanked the postmaster and went and sat on the bench outside the shop. Old habits die hard. He gave the package a sniff then carefully peeled back one corner. It wasn't the book he had been expecting. It looked to be sheets of soft leather. He hadn't ordered any leather for the books so he checked the return address. Nothing. He walked slowly back to the shop. The pain in his foot almost unbearable but he refused to give in to this. Tears of pain threatened to escape by the time he got back to the shop with the package.

He checked to see what Gideon was doing. He was displaying his new bits, so Reid took he chance to go back through the cellar door and down the stairs. He flicked on a light and walked in, dropping the box to the floor and looking around him. Two of the walls were covered in chains and manacles the other two were empty, but had hooks as though ready for something. Spencer tipped out the contents of the box.

"This is the last thing Floyd. I won't be coming down here again. It's over. I am happy."

_Hang the skins._

"I don't want to do this."

_I can't remember giving you a choice._

"If I refuse?"

_Remember what I can make you do._

Reid spent the next twenty minutes hanging skins and small squares of leather to the walls. Each one different and each one soft and smooth. A couple had what looked to be tattoos on them, or birthmarks, some dark and some light. He threw the empty box into a corner.

"Now it is over."

_Now it is over._

Spencer turned off the light and locked the door. He went back up the stairs and locked the door in the hallway, and walked back into the shop. Gideon was whistling. Reid just stood and watched as he busied himself. This was good. He really was happy in the bookstore.

He pulled his sleeves down and pulled his watch over the cuff on his left arm. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and felt the pack of ten in one pocket and the lighter in the other.

…………

End

**A/N This WILL be continued……but you can stop here if you need your happy ending :c) (that's as happy as I can get it!!!)**


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